stanley stood up suddenly, "sorry, my phone is buzzing, one second," he cut beverly off, furrowing his eyebrows looking at his phone. beverly stopped speaking and watched as stanley looked to her, "it's richie. i'm gonna see what he wants," and answered the phone.
"stan, are you busy?" richie sniffled.
obviously, stanley was busy, hanging out with beverly, but he didn't trust the quiver in richie's voice. "what's up?"
"i-fuck-dude, i was just grabbing food, and, look, it doesn't matter how, but i started thinking about seth, and i-i can't stop-"
"oh, richie, are you okay? can i do anything?" stanley said. it wasn't the first time that something like this had happened. stanley was, however, extremely concerned, as richie had been doing quite well.
"can you come over?"
stanley looked to beverly, "i'm with beverly, do you want her to come along?" he said into the phone, beverly raising an eyebrow.
"yeah,"
-
"hey, rich, c'mon, let's- " stanley was cut off, richie grabbing him by shirt cloth and pulling him close. stanley held onto richie, feeling him sob into his shoulder. "look, bev brought smokes, we'll sit by your window and help you through this, okay?"
"i love you,"
"we love you too" beverly
"tell us what's up," stanley said, once they were situated by the window.
richie had somehow ended up sitting in front of stanley, leaning on him slightly as he smoked out his bedroom window. beverly sat across from them and tapped her foot on richie's.
"i don't even know what fucking triggered it, but suddenly i was thinking about him, and i-i... i'm the age he was when... and he had so much life left to..." richie left sentences unfinished in his attempts to keep from crying. he pulled at the collar of his shirt with his hand nervously.
there was nothing stanley or beverly could really say to him.
"and i just, i don't know what to do, because it's been two fucking years, and i'm still grieving, and i don't know if i'll ever stop."
"richie, babe, you're allowed to grieve for as long as you need," beverly said,
"i just wish it didn't hurt so fucking badly. i wish it was easier to drive. i wish my dad wouldn't drive so fucking fast, and i'm so fucking pissed."
truth be told, stanley didn't remember seth all that well. he'd met him about a week after knowing richie, the day he went to richie's house for the first time. seth was richie's older cousin who had, through unfortunate events, come to live with the three toziers. richie adored him, obviously.
stanley had never asked, but he was pretty sure seth was the reason he smoked.
"oh, so this is stanley! nice to meet you big man,"
stanley had learned seth and richie's secret handshake that first day.
from what stanley could remember, seth looked more like wentworth than richie, and he was the nicest guy stanley had ever met. he wanted to hear everything stanley had to say, even if it wasn't all that much.
the day seth got his permit, he'd been so excited that he'd phoned stanley's home phone just to tell him the news. stanley had never experienced having an older sibling figure until that moment.
he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for richie.
it was about a year after stanley had first met seth that richie had come over to stanley's house, crying. he said he'd run away from home.
"what's wrong? why?"
"seth's gone. he-he's fucking gone. dad was driving him somewhere, and some fucking asshole was drunk driving a fucking semi, and hit the passenger-" he broke down, and stanley brought him inside, rushing him past his parents up the stairs.
stanley was, apparently, the only one of richie's close friends who'd ever met seth. they'd known richie longer, but they'd never come over. only after seth had died had richie let them come over, and it was few and far in between.
at the funeral, richie had refused to speak.
"there are no words i could say that would do him any sort of justice."
besides, richie was 14 when seth died. two years had changed him a little.
not enough, though, it seemed as tears escaped him, cigarette sitting idly in his mouth.
