A/N - Hello! It's Cloud again, back with a scheduled chapter of "That Summer, And Many More". Before jumping in to this week's chapter, please check the trigger warnings. :)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Internalized homophobia and period appropriate homophobia(so things like the F or Q slur).

With that taken care of, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

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1987, age 13 - Summer

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It was one of the strongest- and earliest- memories I had of Richie. It was a few weeks into summer, and I had been mulling over the words Bowers had called him, and a troubling feeling in my chest that I could never pinpoint. Whether those two ideas were connected, were beyond me. Was Richie gay? I supposed that wasn't a question that I could ask my friends at the time, or anyone, for that matter. I had tried asking my father several years before, about a peculiar word I had heard in class. One of the boys had just come back from a trip to California for some holiday, and his relative was what his mother referred to as a 'queer.' When I had excitedly come home that day and tried inquiring my father about the new word, he yelled at me, never to speak of it again. Whatever it was, it wasn't right.

There was also the odd feeling. The one that bubbled over into the weekend, when I was supposed to be having fun. It always left me confused and empty. I didn't think being gay and what my strange feeling was, were ever connected, but many of my childhood predictions fail me- even to this day.

Richie had been called a fag. I knew not to tell my father this time, I knew what he would say- about the word, about being friends with Richie, about everything. Richie and I had decided to meet up at the Barrens before we hung out with Bill, Eddie, and Stan, like last week, and that week before it, and so on. This seemed to be our summer ritual, and we'd go on to do it for every summer after that, before the end of '92, the year he'd go off to college.

As best friends, we told each other everything. But there was something always so terrifying- yet exciting- about telling each other this. It was like a secret! You weren't supposed to share secrets, but it was exhilarating to so anyways and to try not getting caught doing so. It always felt worse than that, though. The sort of thing you took to your grave. But as children- and as a child of the 80s- we wouldn't know the consequences of it till much later.

"Rich!" I yelp, spotting him on his way to the Barrens. I run up over to him, "Dude, we have to meet everyone in half an hour!"

Richie had an indeterminable frown on his face when I finally met up with him. He always held the brightest smile. "I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"I like you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Geez, Y/n, what a way to make a guy feel nice. I thought after the other day, when we were riding together, I thought you liked me back. I shouldn't have assumed, I guess." He rubs the back of his neck, looking down, abashed.

I never should have said it, but I always had the terrible quality of blurting things out- especially when it was an important matter.

"Aren't you gay?" What a terrible thing for me to ask. My father would have been ashamed- if he had known, that is. I had never told him of this day, or any subsequential meetings thereafter. Richie and I had lots of talks, ones I would never tell my father. I would never have the heart or the courage to admit any of it to him.

Richie's face was bright red, and to this day, I couldn't tell you if it was in admittance of him being gay, or if he was embarrassed I had even asked. Or, perhaps it was both. I should have never asked him in the first place, but he might have never told me if I hadn't. We might have never had the relationship we did, at least not the same way as we had, if I had kept quiet.

"Why?" It's so simple, and yet I know exactly what it means. Why, why, why. Why now, why here, why did you- ever- have to ask?

I didn't respond. I didn't know what to say- I knew if I opened up my mouth, I would repeat it. Richie would have been so furious with me. I just look down- ashamed.

He must have taken that much differently than I had ever intended. Meant as an apology, taken as 'it's a sin.' It took him a while to respond. By the time he spoke up, he was a sobbing mess- something I was known to be, much later on. I was a very emotional kid- and as an adult, too. Some things just never change. He tries to quiet it, though, choking his sobs down. I was- and honestly always- have been- and will continue- being a loud, obnoxious cryer.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I asked, that wasn't right of me, Rich." I lean in to hug him, and he swats me away. "I didn't mean it in a bad way, honest!"

"What other way is there?" He sobs, his voice cracking.

"Well, I heard a classmate a mine once, and his uncle's a queer. But like, they still visit him, so it can't be that bad!" Richie doesn't stop. At the time, I thought I had fucked up big time.

"And-and! The guy lives with like, another man, and it's totally normal for them!" I inwardly smile at that idea. I was still on the fence about queers, but they seemed alright, they just liked other people then we're supposed to.

"I'm not gay!" I probably looked taken aback, and my eyes welled up with tears. This comment stung, it always hurt me, and I didn't know why. I wasn't gay. "Y/n, I didn't mean that- no! I meant, I didn't mean to yell."

"What's so bad if you are, though?" He begins to think again. "I- I'm not a girl, Rich." I didn't mean to say that- I didn't mean to say that.

"I'm sorry?"

"I think you stole my line, Rich." Bad time, me, just- bad time. "Sorry, I wasn't gonna say that. Not the line bit, the other thing."

"What does that mean?" He didn't look angry, he just looked- frankly- confused. He seemed genuinely curious, though. He was interested in what I had to say; I always had Richie to count on with that.

"I, I don't know, not entirely. I've meant to tell you, but I didn't know what this feeling was. I didn't know how to explain it and...I still don't."

"Is this like, are you a boy? I mean, you don't have a dick. Not that I know of." He runs his hands along his eyes to dry them off, and grins, making me laugh.

"No, Richie, I'm not a boy. And I think you'd know if I had one-"I joked. "But, seriously, I'm something in between- I think- I don't know how to explain it. Just, when we're alone, Rich, don't call me a girl."

"Oh- oh, okay!" He doesn't say a thing in return, and neither do I. But he wipes my tears away, and wraps his arms around me. The only sound is his heavy breathing and the wind through the trees. He snakes his arms between us and softly guides my arm(my watch arm) up. He has his forehead up to mine, looking down at my wrist. I'm too embarrassed, and in love with how connected I feel with Richie so close to me- I keep my eyes closed. I'm sure I'm smiling, I can feel it. "Do you- are we still going to meet everyone today? I can't help but to notice the time." He interrupts the silence, and when I look up, he has the slyest smile on him, one that makes me roll my eyes.

"Geez, now who's a total time nerd. If we start walking now, we should be able to make it."

"If we had bikes, it would be quicker."

"It's fun walking- especially with you."

"Is that your way of saying you like me back?"

"Oh, buzz off. Of course, I like you. Now, let's get going- or Eddie's gonna give us an earful!" I laugh, it's loud, and if I had known any better about sound back then, my first thought wouldn't have been it could reach Rome. Or, some other far off place. But I was silly, and I loved having all these stupid conversations with Richie- and all of our meaningful ones, too.

He always knew what to say- how to make me laugh and smile. He made all the bad days wash away. For a long, long time, it kept up. Our relationship was solid, but something about Derry, or me, always made leaving the town much more bitter.