CHAPTER ONE: THE FANNY PACK

Richie's POV:

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EDDIE!"

The six of us all grinned eagerly as Beverly, who was standing behind our smallest friend, removed her hands from his eyes. Her short red curls bobbed excitedly as she ran around in front of him so that she could see his expression.

Eddie blinked against the bright light of Stan's synagogue's conference room, which was empty apart from us. Thankfully they'd let us use it, considering Stanley wasn't in the best of graces with them after his bar mitzvah several years back. Long story short, I guess saying you're a loser and you "always fucking will be" in a religious facility doesn't earn you many brownie points with God.

He looked disgruntled at first from being blindly steered into the room by Beverly, until his gaze focused on the mini celebration we'd prepared. Stan had insisted we all don those ugly paper party hats, the kind with the elastic that dug into your chin. Never mind the fact that we were all about to graduate high school, he'd been so excited about them that none of us were able to protest for long.

He swiftly snapped a blue hat on to Eddie's head as the birthday boy took in the scene before him. Plain vanilla cake, no frosting (fucking disgusting, but Eddie feared consuming too much sugar would rot his teeth), six messily newspaper wrapped presents, and a cheesing group of rag tag Losers met his eyes.

"You guys!" he smiled, running to hug each of us. He tackled Ben first, who'd organized the entire thing with Stanley's help, and Ben's face lit up.

"You really like it?" he asked nervously.

"Duh!" Eddie said, squeezing Stan next. The little sweater vest wearing dork hugged him back, looking proud of himself.

I pushed him away gently when he reached me, rolling my eyes. "None of that gay shit, Kaspbrak," I said. "Go blow out your candles."

He ignored my jab and rolled his eyes, turning to everyone as a whole. "Thank you so much, guys," he beamed. He saw the burning candles on the cake and quickly blew them out, staring down at his glorified loaf of bread. "You don't think any of the wax got on the cake, do you?" he asked worriedly, biting his lip. "I don't think you're supposed to eat the wax. Mom said paraffin wax causes cancer."

"I think y-you're good, Eddie," Bill laughed, picking up the knife sitting next to the cake on the conference table. "Let's eat."

I looked thoughtfully around at my friends while everyone stuffed their faces and chatted amongst themselves. The party wasn't much, but then again none of us could afford much. We'd busted our balls to get what we did have, and had almost gone bankrupt in the process. So, sure it might not be some extravagant gesture, but it was nice all the same and had the essentials. Except for balloons. None of those, for obvious reasons. Six and a half years later, and still, none of us could stomach them.

Six and a half years. It was crazy how much we'd all changed. Eddie was the last of us to turn 18, and we'd all be graduating in a few months. Bev had finally hit puberty and looked like a girl now, which I think excited more than just Bill and Ben. Ben. Poor bastard. He still had it bad for her, but she and Bill had been casually dating for a couple years now. I say "casually" because they still hadn't fucked, according to Bill, but he swore he was cool with it.

Stan and Bill had both sprouted up like bean poles, and so had I, for that matter. I was the tallest Loser (and the most handsome). Ben was tall too, but his weight and round face still made him look about fifteen. Mike had stayed short and stocky, but the guy had some serious arms on him from so many years working on his grandpa's farm.

My face softened when I looked at Eddie. The scrawny little thing hadn't changed much over the years. Same mop of dark hair, same olive skin, and same stupid fucking inhaler. He really was my best friend though, and he had been as far back as I could remember. All of the Losers were extremely close, but Eddie, Bill, Stan and I had been friends since kindergarten. We'd even let Georgie tag along sometimes, when he was still around. Eddie and I had always kind of been stuck to each other, though. His mom had asked the teachers not to let him go outside for recess in kindergarten, because she feared his grass "allergy" would set off an asthma attack. I'd been the only kid to sit inside with him every day and color instead of going out to play. To be honest, I wasn't sure why he considered me his best friend, considering the amount of times I'd joked about having sex with his mother, but the little nerd liked me. Our friendship mainly revolved around me gently (and not so gently) bullying him, and him snapping back some smartass bullshit. But it worked for us.

I knew we were all going our separate ways in just a few months, and it sucked balls. Bev and her aunt were moving out West somewhere. Her aunt had gotten custody over her after she got the courage to go to the police about the way her dad treated her, and even though she was eighteen now, she still clung to the woman as a safety net. Bill was going to school for writing in New York. Stanley was going to be part of some weird ass bird watching internship in South America. Ben just wanted to get the hell out of dodge, which was my plan, too. I didn't care where it was as long as it wasn't Derry. Eddie and his hypochondriac ass mother were moving to Ohio so he could go to pharmacy school.

I knew out of all my friends, not having Eddie around to mess with would be the hardest, though I'd never admit it to the little fucker. I hated the soft spot I had for him. I hated the way he made my heart beat out of my chest when his big brown eyes looked at me. I hated feeling different from my friends, who all openly expressed their attraction to women, and I tried to enthusiastically compensate with over the top sexual remarks to cover the things I wasn't feeling. I knew what happened to queers in little towns like mine. It disgusted me and I'd tried for years to force myself to get over my feelings for Eddie, but it was like a deep ache that wouldn't go away. I didn't fully understand it myself. Even the idea of him finding out terrified me. I'd been keeping this secret since I was twelve and I didn't plan on giving it up any time soon. Richie Trashmouth Tozier was not a fairy.

The thought of him going off into the world without us to protect him was scary, though. He was only 5'7, a far cry shorter than my gangly 6'2, which made him an easy target. Nothing overtly violent like when we were kids, especially now that Henry Bowers' psychotic ass was locked up, but it was hateful just the same. It was so frustrating that he'd faced off against an actual killer clown when he was twelve but couldn't stand up to some dumb ass high school bullies.

While I watched him neatly fold his napkin and start opening the presents as if he was trying not to rip any of the newspaper, I shook my head. Our Eds really was one of a kind.

As I sat in my first period classroom, long legs stretched out into the aisle, Bill walked in with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He flopped down into the desk next to me and looked like he was holding back a smile. "Have you seen Eddie yet today?"

"Not yet, its 8 a.m.," I said, "It's not like I meet the kid in the bathroom before school for a blowjob. I have Sonia for that."

Bill ignored my smartass remark, pulling his textbooks out and setting them on his desk. He gave me a long look. "J-just wait until he g-g-gets here."

As if on cue, Eddie came waltzing through the door, head held high. His confidence surprised me, and I wondered what had the little turd in such a good mood. Until I saw it.

The fanny pack.

It was bright red, as if it screamed "Hey! Beat me up! I'm a fucking wiener licking dork!"

I audibly groaned.

As Eddie sat down at the desk in front of me, his grin didn't waver. "Like it? It's the one Beverly bought me! It's just big enough for my inhaler, my Epi-pen, and my Lactaid, so it's perfect." He affectionately patted the bag sitting on his hip.

Bill's lips twitched, but he nodded. "It's g-great, Eddie," he said.

Well, I wasn't going to lie to him. "Eds, I say this because you're my friend. If you wear that fanny pack today, you're going to end up picking yourself up out of a trash can. God, I feel gayer just saying the words 'fanny pack'.

"It's not gay," he retorted defensively. "It's a hands-free method of carrying all of life's daily essentials, dickwad. It's cool."

I scratched my head, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose with a sigh. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Poindexter." I prayed the assholes at this school would just cut him some slack on this one.

Eddie gave me a cold look as the bell rang, turning around in his seat. Bill shrugged at me and I sighed again, resting my head against my hand and settling in for a boring lecture on the parts of a cell.

Clean clothes in hand, I padded barefoot down the row of showers in my swim trunks. P.E. had just ended, and I couldn't wait to shower off and get out of my wet bottoms. They were rubbing my balls in all kinds of the wrong way. I'd pulled back the curtain to a stall when a sound from the last shower, where the locker room was only dimly lit, stopped me in my tracks.

"Richie," a voice hissed.

Instantly, my blood ran cold in my veins. Not again. The last time a voice had hissed my name from a shower drain, it had belonged to a fucking demon clown. I think all of us had a little bit of PTSD from our experiences that summer between seventh and eighth grade, and we'd discussed often getting nightmares or being extra jumpy at times, but this was next level. There was no way I was imagining this though; and if I was, I had bigger problems than wet ball chafe.

"Richie!" The voice sounded more insistent.

I took a couple steps back, trying to decide whether I needed to turn tail and run. I quickly scanned the room for a weapon, but I was out of luck.

Suddenly a mop of dark hair poked his head out from behind the shower curtain. I almost screamed before I realized who I was looking at.

"Eddie?" I blinked stupidly. Why was he in here? He had gym two periods before I did. "Jesus Christ, Eds," I said, coming down from my adrenaline high. "You almost just got punched, I thought you were…anyway. What are you doing here?"

"Shut the fuck up and come here," Eddie whispered quickly, looking around. I stepped forward, and he pulled the curtain tighter closed around his neck. "They took my clothes," he said softly, looking away.

I felt myself instantly getting pissed and I tried to reign it in by taking a deep breath through my nose. "What do you mean they took your clothes, Eds? Who's 'they'? What happened?"

Eddie started talking quickly like he always did when he got worked up. "I just wanted to wash that disgusting chlorine off of me before I ended up with a chemical burn; you know how I have very sensitive skin, and so I threw my clothes and towel up over the top of the stall and lathered with my special soap and once I was rinsed off I reached for my towel and everything was gone," he said miserably.

I ignored the opportunity to make a remark about his 'special soap'. "You've been in here for two hours?" I asked incredulously.

He nodded sheepishly. "I knew you had gym fifth, so I figured my best bet was to wait it out. I tried to catch you before your class, but it was too loud, and you were talking to someone."

I took another deep breath. "Do you at least have your trunks?"

Eddie shook his head. "They took those too." His lower lip was quivering, and I hated the way that put a knot in my stomach.

"Stop," I said sharply. "No tears. Hang on." I stepped into the stall next to his, yanking the curtain closed. I stepped out of my trunks and wrung them out the best I could with my hands, then tossed them over the top to Eddie. "Here. These are better than nothing. I'm gonna get you out of here."

I could hear the distaste in Eddie's voice as I quickly dressed in my regular clothes, and I imagined the way he must be crinkling his nose. "These were on your wet ass for like an hour," he said flatly.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, zipping my jeans and stepping out of the stall.

"Sorry, sorry," Eddie sighed, and a few seconds later he pulled the curtain back. If the situation hadn't been so serious, I would have laughed. The trunks hung down past his knees, and he held them up with one hand. "Don't you dare fucking laugh," he said, and that statement alone almost did me in. For someone so small, he always held enough anger in that little body for a guy twice his size. "Now what?"

"I need you to hang out here for just a few more minutes," I said. I had been thinking of a plan while changing, and it was a plan one of the members of the Loser's Club was not going to like very much.

"What?! No, Richie, don't leave me," Eddie whined, looking like a spanked puppy.

"Trust me!" I said over my shoulder. I was already out the door.

I strode quickly through the halls to where I knew Stanley's sixth period had just started. He was the only one of us with a car, and I had to get Eds out of here to save him any more embarrassment. When I found out who'd done this to him…

"What? What are you gonna do, Trashmouth?" I asked myself sarcastically. "Insult them to death? Throw rocks at them like a middle schooler again?" When it came down to it, I didn't have the muscle to physically intimidate anyone.

When I reached Stanley's classroom, I started waving frantically through the glass pane in the door, trying to catch his attention. The fucking geek was studiously taking notes in his Calculus class like he wasn't about to go watch birds or some shit for a living.

He finally looked up when his neighbor saw me and nudged him, and I made a wild 'come here' gesture. I watched him raise his hand, presumably to ask to use the restroom, and then he hurried into the hall and shut the door behind him. He made sure we were out of view from the inside of the classroom before turning to me. "What do you want, Richie?" he asked, sounding annoyed. "I need this class to graduate."

Well, there was no point in pussyfooting around. "I need your keys," I said.

"My keys," he repeated flatly. "Let me think about that. No."

"Eddie's stuck half naked in a locker room right now!" I said in exasperation. "I have to take him home. Some dick took his stuff."

"Damn it, Eddie," Stan groaned, rubbing his forehead. "It's gotta be that fanny pack. I told him not to wear it to school. Poor kid can't catch a break. Rich, I can't just let you take my car, you don't even have your license."

"I drive my pop's truck all the time," I shrugged. "I can drive just fine." Okay, that was only half true, but one little white lie never hurt anybody.

"How am I supposed to get home?" he pressed doubtfully.

"My bike is out there, ride with the others. Just bring the bike by after school and you can pick up your car."

Stanley sighed, fishing his keys out of his khakis pocket and laying them in my outstretched hand. "Be careful. And be nice to him. It sounds like he's had a rough day."

"I'm always nice," I grinned, making Stanley scoff. But honestly, he didn't have to say anything to me. I could be a smartass, but nobody could ever say I wasn't there when my friends needed it. I tried to convince myself that was the only reason I wanted to comfort Eddie as I rushed out into the student parking lot to grab his bike and pull the car around.

Eddie's POV:

Richie scared the shit out me, flinging back the shower curtain of the stall I was hiding in. I yelped, putting a hand over my heart. "Jesus dude, don't do that."

He grinned down at me. "Someone's jumpy. Come on, Kaspbrak. The car's in the lot across the hall."

"You have Stan's car?!" I squeaked. "You can't even fucking drive!"

"Can one person not have faith in me?" Richie groaned, ushering me out of the little stall. "You'll be fine, trust me. Come on, más rápido. I'm not trying to get caught."

"Wait!" I said, remembering something important. "My fanny pack!"

I heard Richie make what was probably a scathing comment under his breath, but I didn't care. I ran to my gym locker and flung it open.

The locker was empty.

"No!" I cried, horrified. "That was from Beverly! My medicine's in there!" I instantly started feeling my throat close up at the thought that I didn't have access to my inhaler, and my hand twitched instinctually towards the pocket of Richie's swim trunks.

"Keep it together," Richie said, grabbing my shoulder and steering me away. "That stuff can be replaced."

I scowled, angrily hitching his trunks up higher on my hip and nodding to him that I was ready to leave.

He poked his curly head into the hall first, and then gestured for me to follow him. I scurried to catch up, trying hard not to think about my bare feet on the filthy school floor.

There was a sound to our left, and then I saw Tom Gibson, one of the biggest assholes of our grade, grinning at me. "What's wrong, Wheezy? Can't find your clothes?" He pantomimed clutching his throat like he couldn't breathe.

I felt Richie stiffen beside me. "Oh, fuck off, you walking dildo," he spat. I sucked in air to fling my own insult at the big bully, but he put his arm around my shoulders and tried to keep us moving. "Nope, head forward, keep walking," he said insistently.

"Aw, I guess you need your little faggot boyfriend to protect you," Tom called after us with a mean laugh.

"Go blow your dad," I replied irritably, and we pushed open the doors to the teacher's parking lot. I half expected him to come running out after us, but he didn't. He probably didn't think we were worth his time, which I was 100% okay with. He would and could beat my ass.

Richie took off walking quickly towards Stanley's car, his long legs leaving me in the dust. But I was looking warily down at the ground with a frown.

"Are you coming or not, Eds?" Richie asked. He looked stressed and angry, but not at me. It seemed to have really bugged him the way that Tom had acted.

I squirmed, not wanting to anger him further but also really freaking the fuck out. "What if I step on a rock and cut my foot open? Or what if some crackhead left a needle in the lot and it gets stuck in my skin or something? My mom would have a heart attack if I got hepatitis or AIDs!"

Richie blinked at me. "After all these years, sometimes the things you say still make me think you're fucking with me. Listen, you need to come on. If a teacher sees us out here, our asses are grass."

I took a deep breath and hurried across the hot pavement to him, flinching at the sharp gravel in the bottoms of my feet. Richie opened his door and slid in, and I followed suit. I made sure I was securely buckled and glanced over at him. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I asked worriedly.

He started the car and looked over his shoulder out the back windshield, but I saw that his hands were tight on the wheel. "Yeah, of course."

We slowly made our way out of the teacher's lot, and I think we both saw the clump of red fabric, torn open at all the seams, on the pavement at the same time. My stomach dropped. "My fanny pack," I whispered brokenly. "Stop the car!"

Richie sighed and braked, and I scrambled out of my seat to lift the poor destroyed bag from the ground. It had been sliced open with a knife from the looks of it, and there was no saving it. It was also empty, so whoever had left it out here had taken all of my medicine too. My mom was going to kill me. I felt my eyes burning as I clutched the bag, and I turned around to climb back into the car.

"Hey, it's just a fanny pack, dweeb," Richie said in a strained voice, trying to lighten the mood.

Tears were stinging in my eyes as I buckled, though, and I looked away quickly. "It was a birthday present and I loved it," I mumbled.

I felt his long slender fingers tentatively on my wrist. "Hey," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll buy you another one. Promise." I could tell he felt bad, but his concerned expression made me uncomfortable. Richie was my best friend, but he wasn't known for being particularly soft hearted. He was our comic relief.

"Let's just go," I said, sniffling angrily. "This day has been shit."

Richie nodded silently, no words for once in his life. He shifted the car into drive and pulled off the property.

Richie's POV:

All in all, I'd say I did a pretty good job getting us back to my place in one piece. (My place, because Mrs. K would lose her mind if she knew what had happened, and also because she didn't particularly like Eddie hanging out with me alone). I'd only gone up on a curb once, and I'd braked way too hard a few times, but by the way Eddie had acted you'd think I'd caused a major traffic pile up.

He climbed shakily out of the car, his face tinted slightly green, clutching the waistband of my too-large swim trunks in one hand and his destroyed fanny pack in the other. "I've never been more glad to have my feet back on the ground," he said.

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics and jogged ahead of him into the house, taking the stairs two at a time, and went into my room. I kicked the dirty underwear on my floor under the bed just in time for him to come in after me, panting. "No need to run," he complained. "Unless you're scared to be seen with me now."

I rolled my eyes. "Terrified," I said sarcastically, shoulder bumping him and leafing through my dresser for something that wouldn't swallow him up. I pulled out a long-sleeved blue shirt and a pair of gym shorts. "Here. Go get dressed, Eddie Spaghetti."

"Don't call me that," Eddie frowned, taking the clothes from me. I watched him walk into my attached bathroom and prayed I'd flushed the last time I'd used it.

I flopped down on my mattress waiting for him to come out, and I thought about how sad it made me that the kid had had to spend two hours, naked and shivering, in a dirty ass shower stall. If it had been any of the other Losers, I'd have probably been able to make jokes about it, but it seriously pissed me off that Eddie had been subjected to that. He was weird, and he was small, so he was an easy target for the assholes at school.

He came out of the bathroom then, and I couldn't help the laugh that burst from my throat. The sleeves of the shirt came down and covered his hands, and the shirt itself almost hid his shorts, leaving just a head and two tanned legs exposed.

"Fuck off, Richie," he snapped, making me laugh harder. "Don't make fun of me." He crossed his arms over his chest, lower lip stuck slightly out.

I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. "No, no, Eds, it's cute," I smiled.

We both froze then, and I wanted to fall through the floor. It's cute? What the fuck, Richie?

Eddie finally cleared his throat, looking away. "Don't be a homo," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"Your mom could tell you I'm not a homo," I shot back immediately, but I could feel my ears burning and knew I must be red.

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence, and I turned my face away and ran my hands through my hair. "So uh, your bike's in the trunk by the way. You can hang out here and then ride home when school's supposed to be out, so your mom doesn't get too freaked. That is, uh, if you want to." Why the fuck was I being so weird?

"Yeah, yeah, right," Eddie said, looking down at his hands before he sat down on my bed next to me. "Thanks."

I jumped up like the mattress had scalded me. "Uh, I'm gonna go downstairs and get some water. Do you want some?"

"Sure," Eddie said with a crooked half-hearted smile, and I moved towards the door, shaking my head. Why hadn't Pennywise just eaten me?