XV

a/n: poor richie, good luck y'all :P

The End Part 2

Okay, now. Prepare yourself.

One would usually think having the worst day of your life is subjective. That it can't possibly be determined too early on, especially in adolescence or teenage years.

But Richie has put a lot of thought into it today, and thinks maybe there should be an exception for himself and Thursday, January 7th. Because he's almost sure that, so far, it's been the absolute worst day of his life, and he can't possibly think of anything that could change that.

You'll understand why he feels this way soon enough, oh you definitely will, but for now, let's resume where you left off, shall we?

Richie burst out of the auditorium doors, blinking harshly with the obvious adjustment to light and the now even louder sounds of rain beating down on the ground and roof. Nevertheless, he still continued down the hall to his next destination.

He rounded down the corner swiftly, and after a few more turns, he eventually finds himself face to face with the office doors.

Walking into this room also feels like an entirely different world. The aura transitions, the clacking of keyboards and phones ringing all around floats in the air.

He approaches the front desk, and smiles his most charming smile. Thank god he's done this before.

"Hi ma'am, I was just wondering, did you mean for that car in the teacher's parking lot to get towed a few minutes ago?"

The lady, clad in a knit sweater, and glasses a trillion times smaller than Richie's, gasps slightly and cranes her neck to look out into the hall. There's nothing there to help her, but she's an old hag, give her a break.

Richie had memorized the alternating schedule of the front desk office ladies back in freshman year. After a challenging dispute with Stan over whether he could get information from one of the old gals simply by charming his way to her heart, he'd set up a master plan to name himself victorious. This office lady, thankfully, happened to be a different one.

"What car?" in the old lady voice Richie had presumed there to be, she was desperate and alert. Umm...

Thank god, Richie also once caught said office lady struggling to pull something out of the trunk of her car on a hot September day; a box of files!

A specific teal box of files that Richie immediately recognizes perched on the shelf just a few feet away, behind her. Thank god for semi-photographic memory.

Richie rubs the back of his neck, pretending to think for a moment. "Uh, it's a small beige one, a stripe on the side?" She's already jumping out of her chair within a second, hobbling away and out the door in a hurry.

Richie can't hide his smirk anymore as he laughs under his breath and skips gaily over to the back of her desk. He hops onto her chair and spins once, before getting down to business.

He doesn't have much time. Although the teacher's parking lot is far, far away from here, another office worker could barge in at any moment from the other door to the left or Richie. And he'd be screwed.

He fumbles around erratically with the files scattered on the table. Now this is the hard part. He skims them all, quickly realizing with a frown that it's just emergency health documents that need signing. He sees Eddie's name almost automatically in the pile, and rolls his eyes.

Mentally crossing his fingers for the best, Richie shrugs and threads his fingers through the files of the teal box from before. You never know.

Richie makes quick work in reading each letter on the labels, going from A to Z. Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie K.

He snatches the K file straight from the box and opens it, hastily skimming in search of his name.

King, Kennedy, Kline... Kaspbrak! Are these not alphabetized? Seriously.

He pulls the piece of paper half out of the box, and reads over the information. It better be in here, Richie thinks, otherwise I'd have done all this for nothing.

Mhm.. yep, blah blah blah... Bingo! Richie cackles to himself quietly, now successfully holding Eddie's class schedule in his hand.

he frantically places everything back in it's original place, setting the teal box back on the shelf, and maneuvering the office chair back to it's original position.

With one last sweep clean of the office desk, Richie snatches the health documents written in Eddie name and hauls ass out the door before anyone else sees him.

Everything is going according to plan so far, and by plan, I'm referring to the insane thing Richie thought up within a second. Not to mention that he still has yet to go over and check for faults or other possible outcomes... Well, at least now Richie knows Eddie's 7th period.

It takes a bit of looking around, but soon Richie finds the classroom named on the paper. You'd be surprised where you can get yourself around school simply with a file in hand. No teachers stopped him, they simply acknowledged him with a thumbs up and brief farewell.

He takes a deep breath and puts on his poker face, pushing open the door and preparing for the worst.

His intrusion seems to interrupt the class ridiculously, because as soon as his converse stumbled in gracelessly, the teacher stopped her lesson and all eyes fell on him.

Oh fuck. Is this a bad idea? It's kind of a bad idea. This is the problem with Richie, he considers whether he should be doing certain things at all, while in the process of doing them! Okay, shut up, Rich! You were made for this! Get out there and- just... act!

"I'm looking for an... Eddie Kaspbrak?" Richie says, squinting at the file and rocking on his toes, one hand stuffed in his pocket idly.

The teacher, which Richie now recognizes as his old after-school tutor for advanced Algebra in freshman year, rises from her desk and eyes him up and down confusedly. Well fuck. Richie was a little shit to her back then, no doubt she hasn't forgiven him for that.

As the teacher crosses over to him, Richie feels eyes boring into him like lasers. He gazes out to the odd looks he's receiving, and skims through them one by one anxiously. Who are these fucking people? He visibly frowns in confusion when he realizes Eddie isn't even fucking here!

The teacher is perched by his side before Richie notices, and he jumps back awkwardly when she's closely peering at the file in his hand in examination.

Is this not the right class? Oh god, Richie is gonna kill Eddie when he finds him (if he finds him). Richie just stole school files for him, had a heart-to-heart with fucking Myra for him, and who knows what else! It's more likely that Eddie will get to kill him first, but this is starting to get ridiculous.

"It appears that Eddie isn't actually present today" the teacher says in a matter-of-fact tone. No shit, Richie thinks with a grimace.

"Oh, nevermind I guess. I'll come back later then" he says, already spinning on his heel.

But the teacher has a death grip on the files, and Richie's brain short circuits for a harsh minute. Out of all the scenarios he saw going down within the seconds that he planned it out, none of them involved this. Fighting. Between him and a teacher.

Richie, a confused glint in his eyes, laughs dryly and pulls back on the files, only for the teacher to pull back too.

"I can hand it to Mr. Kaspbrak myself when he comes back to class, thank you very much, sir" the teacher hisses, the passive aggressive tone of voice quickly letting Richie know that no, she's not over it. But Richie is still relentless. He pulls again, and nearly gets it, but she grabs hold of the edge like a lifeline.

"The office let me know that he needs it directly from me" Richie lied, smiling with as little friendliness as he can. He tugged on it for a long while, trying to pry it out of the teacher's hands as best he could. Jeez, maybe I should start working in some muscle.

"Richie?" a voice calls from the front of the classroom, literally sitting at a desk right in front of the curly haired boy. Richie is relatively farsighted, don't judge.

Richie, pausing his struggle momentarily and still confused as hell, turns to see the person in front of him, eyes widening even more.

"Connor! Heeeyy!" he exclaims, mentally facepalming himself. Oh god, seriously!? Could this get any worse? Richie would appreciate it if no one he actually knew were here to see this utterly humiliating moment for him.

In this moment of halt, Richie takes it to his advantage and rips the files out of the teacher's grabby hands, huffing and straightening himself up. The teacher simply scoffs in defeat and goes back to the whiteboard.

Connor, eyeing the situation oddly, shakes it off and looks back to Richie's falsely gleeful grin.

"What's- um... What's up?" Richie says awkwardly, pretending to be casual as he tries to straighten out the finger-shaped dents in the folder he now holds.

"Ma'am, may I please talk to him.. outside?" Connor says in a relatively quiet voice. And Connor must be a favorite of hers, because, to Richie's surprise, she nods hesitantly, before getting back to her lesson.

But the question in general has Richie's skin crawling, because why does he want to talk to me?? I'm Richie. Connor wants to talk to me.

And Richie isn't sure why he's so nervous when he hops out of the classroom with Connor a second later. Maybe it's because of the stupid revelation he made on Monday, and suddenly he's awkward around every attractive guy in sight. Or because it's Connor, and isn't he somewhat popular around here? Richie frankly couldn't remember.

"Hey, so uhm..." Connor started, looking left and right in the halls for anyone looking. Is he gonna tell me a secret?

"I think I know where Eddie went" he says, smiling when he looks back to the raven haired boy.

Richie is frozen for about .3 seconds, processing, before he bursts into a relieved exhale of breath.

"You do? Oh thank god, where is he?" Richie says, looking around as though he'll be around the corner somewhere.

Connor huffs out a laugh. "Wow, that document must be really important" he says with raised eyebrows, and Richie only has time to be confused for one moment before he nods like it's obvious and waves it off with a laugh.

"Well, it's not much, but I saw him leave the school earlier during lunch. Got on his bike and just left without a backpack or anything" he says, ducking and speaking lowly as if he's exchanging secret information.

Richie purses his lips. Well that makes things a lot fucking harder, doesn't it.

"Thanks, Connor! That really helps" Richie nods appreciatively.

He was about to turn on his heel once again to leave, but Connor stops him suddenly, with a quick "Wait!".

"That's... not all I wanted.. to say" he says, almost hesitant.

Richie returns to his standing spot and bites the inside of his cheek, nodding and gesturing for Connor to say whatever else he wants to.

Now today specifically, Richie has been in a lot of insane situations. Almost too many to count, but I can't even lie when I say this is where things get the craziest. Like, peak crazy. At least in Richie's mind.

"Oh, okay... What's up?" Richie asks with a shrug, digging the heel of his converse into the tiles on the floor, files held behind his back idly.

Connor seems to contemplate something for a second before opening his mouth to speak. Richie wonders exactly what it was that Connor might be thinking right now, but after his next few words, he didn't really have to anymore.

"I was wondering.. if you maybe wanted to go somewhere after your shows, on Friday, you know? Like, just somewhere to eat in the neighborhood. It's just a random thought, I don't know" Connor delivers these words with a good amount of confidence, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, and suddenly Richie feels like he's sitting at a judges desk, having to decide a rating for him, 1 out of 10. So, what'll it be, Rich?

Richie holds back the urge to choke on his own spit for a moment, and instead settles on humming, long and hard.

... What. Just. Happened?? What. Is. Happening??? Error 404. Beeeeeeeeep, he's flatlining! We need a medic! Code blue!! Please, Rich! You can make it. Don't go into the light, don't go!

"Mmmmmmm, oh! Really? With me? Just you... wi- with me?" Richie stutters out, his voice cracking as the reality of the situation still pangs down on him like a cartoon anvil from the sky.

Then it sort of gets to him seriously, painfully. Is it that obvious that he's... y'know.

Oh god, could this day get any fucking worse!?

And let's be honest. Richie should know by now that that sentence should never be uttered, or even thought about for that matter. By now, it's common knowledge in this story that if those words are present, you should run like hell. But... shit, he's too late.

Before he can get another word out, as Conner slowly nods with a hopeful smile, the terrifyingly familiar clack of boots bounding down the hallway from afar slowly arises into earshot.

The both of them halt, a strike of lightning in the sky causing a blare of light to illuminate the halls through the windows. And of course, just down the hall, Henry Bowers and his goons are bumping and laughing amongst themselves like idiots. Thunder cracks down on the sky nearly a second later. Boom.

Richie should just ban those words from his vocabulary at this point.

"Oh hey, coz" Henry laughs, a devilish grin plastered on his face. "The hell are you doing with four eyes over here?" his head nods to gesture at Richie standing frozen, just feet away from Connor.

His cousin!? Richie thinks incredulously, what the fuck!

"You should run," Connor says under his breath hastily, catching Richie entirely by surprise. WHAT THE FUCK?!

But nevertheless, Richie is Richie. And nothing really stops his brain from going into overdrive when bullies are around. Specifically his mouth. "Oh nothing much, bud! Connor was just about to-"

"-Was just about to go back to class! Richie just wanted to talk to me for a second" Connor shrugs, voice wavering, unsteady.

Richie glanced to Connor unsurely, who refused to make eye contact with the boy in response.

"Oh? What... you trying to bone my little cousin, Tozier?" Henry hissed, Belch and Victor gagging and laughing behind him.

Richie took a step back warily as Henry progressed toward them both. "Wh- What? No, I wasn't-"

"Yeah yeah, why don't you get the fuck out of here, faggot" Henry sneered, and Richie watched as Connor slowly made his way to Henry's side of the hall.

Richie scoffed, shaking his head. Of course it'd end up like this. Richie really isn't worth a beating after all. "You fucking assho-" before he could finish that sentence, a harsh punch to the face silences him, sending Richie to stumble back blindly.

Henry retracted his now bloody fist, cackling evilly as the others did. Connor bit his lip, wincing when the red substance began trickling down both of Richie's nostrils and gathering onto his top lip.

"I said get out!" Henry shouted, and Richie didn't need to be told twice. Folder still in his hand, he gave Connor one last cold glance, before turning and storming off hotly.

Well, we can add that to the list of things that surprised us today, huh? What a nightmare it's been. Richie had a heart-to-heart with fucking Myra for Eddie, stole school files for him, then wrestled a fucking teacher for said files, and now got a punch to the face. Not to mention the date he nearly rejected for him, which sort of just ended up being said punch to the face.

Maybe Connor wasn't willing to get his ass kicked for a chance with Richie, but, whether anyone likes it or not, Eddie did.

Richie rounds the corner, sneering in anger and trying to wipe the blood off of his face, but it's no use. There's too much. It's gushing out of his hand, running down the front of his knuckles and eventually to run down and around his wrists like red ribbon.

He almost automatically heads into the nearest bathroom ahead, and rushes his head to hover over one of the sinks, allowing the blood to spill out as it pleases. He stumbles the rest of his body to follow, and his hands fly to the sides of the sink, staining the right side of the porcelain a horrifying print of his own hand.

Richie exhales a shaky breath, and hopes to god there isn't anyone in the stalls right now. For a fleeting moment, he closes his eyes and thinks maybe Eddie will hop out of one of them and, with an exaggerated gasp, rush over to him and tend to his wounds with no hesitation. A warm hand on Richie's cheek. Tender, scolding gaze.

God, he never should have left him in that fucking closet! As far as Richie knows, him and Eddie could be in class right now, a perfectly normal day had Richie just not told him, or waited for him to wake up after at least.

Richie sighs and, with his clean hand, pushes his glasses up so that they rest atop his messy head of hair. He gazes into the mirror and looks at himself, visibly wincing at the sight.

Though it's still a bit blurry without his glasses on, he can still make out the fact that his bags are overly large today, and his shirt already has blotches of red on the collar. Fresh blood still leaks out of his nose like two rivers. It's stopping gradually, but it doesn't help his appearance any bit.

"Fuck" he says out loud, simply to get it out. It's how he feels in the moment after all.

He doesn't expect anyone to answer, obviously, but when someone does...well, how can he be surprised?

Like this!

"You can say that again," someone from a stall on the far left speaks up.

"WHAT THE SHIT!" Richie exclaims, jumping back and spinning on his toes to look at the stall head on.

Maybe he wouldn't be having this reaction if the voice weren't being so startlingly nonchalant about the situation, or perhaps if it wasn't fucking female.

"Hey! Shut the fuck up, I'm not in the mood, alright?" she says, snappy. Richie, brows furrowed and eyes set on the shoes beneath the stall, analyzes the situation and wonders how the fuck he got here. Hmm.

So... he may have walked into the girls' bathroom. That was a mistake.

Though almost immediately after that thought, his eyes dart back to the shoes, he replays that voice in his mind. They're flats, first of all. And the Shut the fuck up. He's heard that shut the fuck up before. It's..

The lock of the stall clicks open, and the fiery haired girl steps out. Richie smirks at his own quick intuition and crosses his arms over his chest as her eyes sweep him up and down once-over.

"Richie?" she says, genuinely surprised, leaning up on the stall as though taken aback.

"In the flesh" he grins, arms wide to gesture to himself gracefully. Beverly laughs.

"You look like utter shit!" she says, shaking her head and biting her thumb as though the sight before her is absolutely unbelievable.

"I could say the same for you" Richie hums, jokingly making a wincing face as he pulls his glasses back down, exaggeratedly examining her.

She's in all black, courtesy of her need to be prepared for the show tonight (to be backstage the whole time, but i'm not here to judge), but Richie can also see her deep eye bags, and her extra-slouching posture today.

"Yeah yeah, I'm on my lady time, incase you haven't noticed" Beverly laughs, though Richie can tell there's no humor behind it.

He remembers in freshman year, when the school failed to take health classes seriously, and the topic of women's periods sprung up in a conversation between Beverly and him. She tried her best to explain to him what the cramps felt like, and all the other shit girls have to go through in the process. With an exasperated huff and a hand held to his stomach almost protectively, Richie swore to never make fun of her moody symptoms ever again.

"Oh shit, do you need anything? I can go get some stuff from the nurse if you want-" Richie begins, pointing in the direction of the nurses office and already beginning to tread slowly toward the door.

"No- I'm okay, Richie. Thanks" Beverly chuckles, an appreciative smile clear on her face.

"Oh thank fuck! Cuz I need to take a piss like, ASAP" Richie exclaims, before hopping into one of the stalls quickly.

Richie whistles an awful tune as he does his business, likely annoying Beverly while he's at it.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with a fuckin' crime scene on my hands" Beverly speaks up as Richie finishes up and zips up his pants.

"Yeah, you could say that again" he says with a roll of his eyes, opening the stall once again to see Beverly examining the sink smeared with blood of his own.

He was about to make a joke about how he's on his period too, considering what a shitty day it's been for him, just as he walks over to wash his hands, when instead, the bell rings.

Beverly curses under her breath, suddenly alert and beginning to urgently push against Richie's chest.

"What the... What the fuck are you doing?" Richie asks, looking at her with concern as she keeps shooing him into a stall. That stall. Any stall!

Because she knows something he doesn't. A vital piece of information that probably should have been exchanged earlier.

Passing time is the fucking rush hour of female bathrooms at Derry High. And no one appreciates a male in there frankly any time.

"They're coming!" Beverly says, horrified. She and Richie stare at the door for a second or two, listening to the halls beginning to fill with students, and muffled chatter move in waves.

Without warning, Beverly gives one last shove to Richie's chest, sending him tumbling to the floor of the dark handicapped stall. And before he can protest, she's closing the door on him with a slam.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck" she breathes out in a sort of singsongy tone, and Richie watches her flats hurriedly cross over to the door.

He rises from the floor, dusting himself off with a grimace, and suddenly hears a burst of noise enter the bathroom.

"Yeah! He asked me to the dance, and I was like, 'Is that all?'. It was such a girl power moment, right?" "Totally" "Jeremy hasn't asked me to the dance yet" "That's because you're just not looking your best today, Jenneth, and the photos need to be perfect!" "What in the world happened to this sink?"

Shitshitshitshitshit, so this is what Beverly tried to warn him about. Richie covers his mouth with a slap, and locks his stall in one swift move. Within seconds, the stalls lined up beside him become occupied. Jesus Christ!

"What are you doing here?" the girl Richie has suddenly deemed as most talkative says in her eye-rolling valley girl accent.

"I'm- I'm just waiting to go to the bathroom" Richie hears Beverly say in a timid voice, and his blood boils when the sound of laughter overlaps her.

"Slut," one of them says slyly, and whoops! This is Richie's tipping point. Once again, overdrive!

With a wince and a sliver of dignity, he speaks up. "Hey, that's not very nice!" The Voice he usually uses on Beverly's father ignites in his throat, and suddenly it's coming out as effortless as can be.

A second passes where no one speaks, and even the sinks have stopped running as if they're surprised too. And after that long, Richie simply assumes he's fucked up his cover, compromised his hiding place. Shit!

"No one asked you," the talkative girl says, and Richie can imagine her ugly face contorted into a nasty frown. Well, apparently his Girl voice is accurate enough to fool these idiots.

"Who are you anyways? I've been waiting here?? I need the stall!" talkative girl shouts, whiny, bitching. Her hand comes down on the stall door, a loud thump startling Richie.

"I'm... uh" he continues, panicking in the moment. I'm what? I'm who?? Eyes catching on the handicapped sign in the corner of the stall, Richie's mouth runs faster than he can control.

"I'm.. disabled" he responds, biting his knuckle and mentally scolding himself.

But fortunately, that seems to silence everyone. "Ugh, sorry, whatever. Jenneth, theres a decent bathroom in the C building, we should go there" the girl says, and Richie covers his mouth as he lets out a relieved exhale of breath.

As girls eventually filter out slowly, and the bell rings, Richie and Beverly are alone in the bathroom once again.

"Those bitches, hogging the bathrooms every chance they get" Beverly says with a huff as Richie cautiously steps out of his stall.

"Nice performance, dickwad" she smirks, and Richie just shoves her with a laugh, moving to lean on a sink nearby.

"It's called method acting? Ever heard of it? Taking risks!" he says, bowing dramatically. Beverly just laughs, shaking her head.

"How much crazier can today fucking get?" Richie wonders aloud, rubbing a hand over one eye in exhaustion.

Beverly smacks her lips together and shrugs, though she has no idea what Richie means by that. "D'you mind telling me how the fuck you got here?" she asks, moving to lean on a stall again.

Richie thinks for a moment, and shudders with a shake of his head. "It's a long story" he murmurs, gesturing to his current state. Wild, dirty, borderline manic. His flannel has gone through enough today already.

"I've got time" she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest almost as thought to settle in.

"Yeah, well I don't" Richie replies, glancing toward the door momentarily before turning back to her with a sheepish, apologetic smile.

"Have you, by any chance, seen Eds roamin' around anywhere?" Richie asks, hopeful. "I'm sort of on a mission here"

Beverly purses her lips and shakes her head with a curt "Sorry, man."

Richie waves it off and thanks her anyways. He lunges toward her a places a quick wet smack on her cheek, then hops over to the door.

"Could you, uhm... cover me?" he asks with a dry laugh, fiddling with his fingers awkwardly.

"Yeah sure," she shrugs with a giggle, skipping over to the door and pushing it open just a crack for her to slip out. Richie closes the door behind her and waits for a moment, ear to the door impatiently.

After a minute, Richie let's out a phew, hearing her casually whistle in signal for him to come out now.

He hops out quickly, and thanks Beverly again. "You're the love of my life, Missus Marsh, good luck with your... issues" Richie says in a Voice, winking and saluting her goodbye.

"You too," she salutes back, bowing before turning back into the bathroom and disappearing inside.

Okay, Richie now has about an hour to find Eddie before they're both partially screwed. Before the whole cast is screwed! Eddie needs to show up to rehearsal after school, he's an understudy! An understudy who's about to understudy!

Richie's converse skids against the tiles as he races to the back doors. He remembers just that morning, pulling up to school and smiling at the familiar bike parked next to his. Eddie's. He knows it's gone already, and now he just needs to find out where it went.

Richie approaches the double doors, gazes outside nervously. It's fucking pouring. But after today? What hasn't he done to get to Eddie? This is just a minor inconvenience compared to the rest.

With a defeated huff, he pushes open the door and gets to his bike quickly.

Now, where to find him.

Richie stops to think for a moment, already mounted on his bike and half covered from the rain with the roof of the school. Another example of how he thinks while doing!

Could Eddie have gone to his house? That's a little far, so let's hope not. Maybe he went somewhere he likes to go, like the pharmacy, or the arcade??

God, this is such a disaster. We've said this a lot today because it's true, but for the first time today, Richie suddenly feels a heavy heart pulling him down. He feels... unable. He's about a disaster away from giving up. But the disasters have already happened! One after the other, lined up for him like a torture-twisted death row. He feels his hair beginning to already dampen with the rain, and simply lets the water make its way down his face uselessly.

So yeah... He may as well mark it down. Thursday, January 7th. Worst day of my Life.

Richie can't do anything right. He's a mess. A fuck up! Eddie is amazing, he doesn't deserve someone like Richie. This is all his fault and he can't do anything right! (Well, y'know, except maybe his decent cooking skills-...

Wait a minute...

"-He'd go on and on about 'oh Richie did really good at teaching me this stuff' and 'oh, Richie knows how to make food, did you know that?'"

"-You know? Like, just somewhere to eat in the neighborhood. It's just a random though, I don't know"

"It's called method acting? Ever heard of it? Taking risks!"

Richie pauses. Of course! How could I miss it? Without hesitation, he looks around cautiously and begins riding off.

He knows where Eddie is.

i'm sure you guys can figure it out too, but i suggest you hold in ur theories till next chapter :)) also early post bc i have a specific schedule planned!! part two of the end! uh oh lmfao, love you guys! - author