summary: Richie doesn’t know why, but (Y/N) doesn’t seem to be very happy to see him. They seemed to be good friends, so why now?
A/N: aaa I haven’t done one-shots in a while!!! also, I needed a gif of Richie looking kinda upset but I can’t find one so here ya go have a Mike Wheeler pretending to be Richie Tozier
Richie impatiently bounced on the benches of the lunch table, waiting for you to come over. It’d just began the school year and it was the month you got your leg cast off. Ever since the Neibolt House Incident, you were left with a severely sliced leg and a huge scar on the side. The whole Losers Club gang stuck together, of course. Beverly found a way to stay in Derry for at least a couple years, Mike got himself an internship at a bakery, and Bill stopped his parents from moving.
As he watched you walk through the doors into the bustling cafeteria, his face lit up like Christmas lights. He waved his hand up and ignored the weird looks from the other students, “Hey! Hey, (Y/N)! Over here!”
You glanced over at the table he sat at and your eyes slowly went over to Stan, who sat across from him. Stan looked at you and he gave a sweet smile before returning to read through his book while taking sips from his milk. You went back to Richie and suddenly felt your stomach churn. You didn’t mean to, but you gave a dirty look before turning away and walking back out of the cafeteria.
Richie watched as you sped away and he felt his hand drop down to the table, the thud startling the calm Stanley. He made a confused, upset face and stared at Richie, placing his book beside his lunchbox.
“Did you see the way (Y/N) looked at me? I mean, come on, man. What did I even do?” Richie glanced back at the doors that you once stood between that was now crowded with acne teens and hyper tweens. He huffed before turning back to Stanley to bite part of his sandwich.
“Maybe you made them mad. I mean, you kind of ignored them for months after the um, the Thing happened. You hung out with Eddie more. Bill, too,” Stan raised his eyebrow before taking another sip of his milk. Richie rolled his eyes at him and leaned his elbow onto the table.
“Yeah, but I never did shit! Like, ignoring isn’t a bad thing. They ignored me for like, a week one time. It’s just payback,” Richie took a second bite before plopping his sandwich back into his lunchbox. Stan raised his eyebrow again, giving Richie a deadpanned look. “What?”
Stan sighed and set down his milk. He raised his hands, “Your quote-unquote payback has been going on for two months. Do you even know how that makes them feel, Richie?” Richie scoffed while closing up his lunchbox. Maybe he was a bit insensitive to that, but he still knew that it was just playful revenge.
“It’s just fun revenge, Stan. Geez,” Richie shook his head slowly and brushed crumbs off the table before the bell had rung. Stanley packed away his food and drank the last of his milk. As the two walked out of the cafeteria, Richie glanced back into the room and noticed that you’d just walked in. Everyone had left and you were still there, sitting alone with barely eaten food.
He felt a tightening in his chest the moment you two locked eyes, to which you turned away and resumed eating. Richie’s eyebrows knitted together and he turned back to Stan as they walked through the halls. Stan rambled about how Beverly had gotten him a few books for his birthday and how Ben got him a library card, nerdy stuff in Richie’s book.
What he really was listening to were his thoughts. Maybe he did go too far, maybe you hated him. He was a dick sometimes. Okay, maybe not just sometimes. He just was never taught what was too far, nothing was too far unless he gets hurt. There were no boundaries.
“Give me a second, Stan. Gotta take a piss,” Stan grimaced while Richie handed him his lunchbox and ran off. Stan walked off to class while Richie slowly walked to the bathrooms, his hands shoved into his pockets. As he neared the bathrooms, he smugly passed the doorway and walked began to full-on sprint toward the cafeteria.
As he neared the doors, he could hear laughing. Genuine, happy laughing. Not from just you, either. He heard four voices, one of which he knew was yours from countless times of laughing about cheesy horror movies, or the times he’d accidentally snort and make soda go up his nose. Those were the good times, the best days that you’d shared a year ago before he shut you out.
To be honest, he never even knew why he shut you out. Maybe it was because you became friends with Eddie, or maybe because he didn’t go to your orchestra recitals, maybe because you weren’t there for him in the Neibolt house the day you got hurt. In Richie’s mind, it was your fault that the friendship didn’t last. Your fault for getting a better friend, your fault for the teacher pairing you and Eddie for science instead of you and him, your fault for getting that cast in the first place.
Everything was your fault if it didn’t have a neutral explanation.
Richie peeked in through the open door and his stomach flipped at the sight. You, Beverly, Eddie, and some other boy he never knew sat together at a table, your laughing echoing off the empty walls of the cafeteria. Richie’s eyes lingered on you before his daze distorted into a glare, now staring down the unknown boy and Eddie, who sat around you. Eddie seemed to be the one making the jokes, the one making you laugh.
“Dipshit! That’s definitely not how it happened!” Beverly pushed hair behind her ear and crossed her legs, watching as Eddie over exaggerated the happenings of watching (Y/N) get their cast off. The unknown boy snorted with laughter at Eddie’s annoyed deadpan.
“You weren’t even there, so ha!” Eddie crossed his arms and the others burst out laughing. Eddie tried to bite back and hid his laughing before he laughed along with them.
“Actually, it wasn’t either way,” You spoke up as soon as the laughter died down. Richie listened intently and leaned onto the door, watching your smile downturn into a subtle frown. “It was like, early August. I’d just gotten my shit together and went to the doctor’s. I called up Richie like, ten times.” You laughed and the others’ smiles went down as well, remembering what you’d told them.
Richie noticed the now glum feeling in the conversation, yet he still decided to listen along. He wanted badly to walk over and casually start joking around like you’d done last year like you did before Neibolt.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Eddie placed his hand over yours and Beverly did the same, smiling comfortingly, trying to make you feel better. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we get it. It’s okay with us.”
“It’s fine, Eddie,” You patted his head and ruffled his hair before getting back to the story. They listened in once you’d started smiling again, giggling once you’d said something funny. “Then like, they take out this rea-a-ally big saw! I was like, “Jesus Christ!””
Richie laughed and before he could remember that he was supposed to be hiding, you all looked over at the doors and saw Richie Tozier laughing his ass off. Your smile fell and you looked down, the others doing the same.
Since he’d just blown his cover anyway, Richie thought it would be okay to walk over. He slowly but surely made his way over, sitting down across from you. The three others cleared their throats and looked down in silence.
“So, uh, hey,” Richie tried his best to lighten the mood, smiling even when he knew he shouldn’t. You stared down at your food and the others looked to the sides. “I heard you got your cast off. ‘Means we could swim at the Quarry again, right?”
They stayed silent, even Eddie did. Eddie was always one to side with Richie, even if they were polar opposites. Like brothers from another mother, it was always the two. But now, it was just him. Him alone, you together.
“Yeah,” You muttered under your breath as a way to not talk to him. You avoided any eye contact and tried to use as little words as possible, “I got it off a month ago. I don’t like to swim, though.” He knew that was a lie, you’d always loved to go swimming. Night or day, you’d be swimming.
“C’mon, we all know that’s a lie! I’ve seen you at the pool all the time, right Eddie?” Richie looked over to Eddie, who uncomfortably shifted under his stare. He turned around to the new boy, then to Beverly, “Bev?”
“Look, Richie. That was when I was your friend, as in a year ago. I’ve changed, okay? Just leave me alone,” You grabbed your lunch and stood up, climbing out from the lunch tables to walk toward the trash bins. You threw out the rest of your food and left your food tray while walking away and out of the cafeteria. Beverly, Eddie, and that new guy at the table awkwardly sat there before slowly parting with lame excuses.
Before the new guy could leave, Richie stopped him, “Who’re you?” The boy seemed confused and a bit anxious, but Richie could care less.
“I- I’m Will. Will Byers,” He wiped his palms against his pants while Richie stared him down. Will was awkward and didn’t want to be there, he wanted to leave. Richie took a long look at him. A flannel wearing, bowl-cut having wimp that was skinnier than Bill and Stan put together. Richie couldn’t believe (Y/N) ditched him for this kid, his blood boiled just at the thought of it.
“You’re hair cut’s stupid,” Richie blurted out without thinking before pushing past the boy to walk after you. He knew where you’d be. You always were interested in the field and you’d made a secret clubhouse in the old toolshed, it was always named the Misfit Kingdom ever since you two met.
As Richie got closer to the clubhouse, he stopped in his tracks the moment he saw it. You were there, of course, only you weren’t going in. You had a shovel, most likely from the remains of the actual toolshed. You were breaking down the entire clubhouse, one wall, one window, one memory at a time. Eddie and Beverly stood beside you, watching in not only worry but grief.
The more you slammed the shoved against the walls, the more Richie felt his eyes sting. He couldn’t remember what he came there for and immediately began to run to you as best as he could from how much of a bad runner he was.
“(Y/N)! What the fuck are you doing? Stop it!” Once he was close enough, he grabbed the shovel from you and held it away from you. You tried your best to grab it from him, to keep destroying, but he wouldn’t let you. “Stop it! What are you doing?”
You glared at him and took a deep breath to keep down the tears that rose to the corners of your eyes, “I hate you, Richie.” You turned away from him and stomped off of the field. Eddie and Beverly watched as Richie’s entire life broke apart. All that hope built up, that impatient waiting for the phone call saying you wanted to hang out, all of that went away in four words.
“Richie..,” Eddie stepped toward Richie, to which he ignored him and stared at the broken kingdom. All the hours of hard work you put into that house was gone. The safe haven for all outcasts and misfits, for all losers, was gone. That one, single place where no one is normal was now gone.
Richie took a shaky breath and his hand gripped onto the shovel tighter. Eddie knew how Richie felt, both he and Beverly felt the same way. Their favorite place was gone, their hangout where nothing is too weird, destroyed right in front of them.
“Richie,” Beverly placed her hand on his shoulder. Richie shoved her off and dropped the shovel in front of her, walking toward the remains of the clubhouse. He bent down and began to clean it up, trying to put it back together. “We’ll leave…”
Once the other two left, he fell to his knees and desperately tried to put everything back to normal. He tried to fix the door, fix the walls, to fix the shelf of sodas and chips, but he couldn’t. The tears that were once just stinging became waterfalls, Richie started crying. He knew it may have been his fault, but it just came so naturally to cry after being hurt.
And right now, he was hurt.