Chapter Text
"Go go go!! R-r-r-run, Eddie!"
Eddie Kaspbrak felt the burning in his lungs as he darted to first base, his cleats planting against the ground. He slid down and just barely got his foot on the plate, his pants now covered in dirt. "Shoot," he thought to himself before snapping back into focus.
The game wasn't a serious one; they were playing for fun. They didn't have enough players for a team after Jimmy Cullun moved. They didn't even have a team name, really —at least not one they gave themselves. Derry had dubbed their team "The Losers." But the Losers weren't bad at baseball, not at all. It was more about who was on the team rather than their skill.
They were all made fun of for something. For example, their catcher, Ben Hanscom, used to be a fat kid. He wasn't anymore, but he still got teased for it in school. Stanley Uris, their second baseman, was bullied for being a jew; Mike Hanlon, their pitcher, was harassed for being black; Bill Denbrough, their third baseman, was mocked for his stutter; Georgie Denbrough, their first baseman, was made fun of for being younger than the rest-- he was 13, and the others were 16; Beverly Marsh, their right fielder, was laughed at for being the only girl on the team and a rumored whore; Ed Corcoran, their shortstop, (who was mainly nicknamed Corcoran for less confusion amongst them all) for just being a loner;
And Eddie Kaspbrak, the finest batter in Derry who could play any position they needed-- usually left fielder, though it was incredibly boring to him-- which was especially apparent with only eight players. With Eddie's skill, the game still ran smoothly enough, though it would have been better with a centerfielder. Whenever the Losers engaged in a game with another team, he knew that people were saying that he ought to be on a better team, but he loved his friends and didn't care.
The Losers typically played alone, practicing their positions with all their efforts. They all enjoyed baseball, but Eddie was passionate like no other. He would play all day and all night if he could. As a little kid, he had spent his free time watching the other kids play, fetching the rogue baseballs every once in a while. He had always wanted to play, but his mother never let him. Sonia Kaspbrak was a strict woman who was convinced that anything and everything would give you the black plague or some other strange disease. Whenever Eddie mentioned how much he wanted to join the baseball team, she threw a fit and warned him of how dangerous it was and how he could break a leg or a rib. So he was forced to take it and to simply sit on the sidelines despondently.
But now that he was older, he was less afraid to disobey his mother's wishes. He lied to her frequently, mainly making up excuses as to where he was going, when he was only going out to their baseball field, which they referred to as "Derry's Junkyard" due to how shitty it was around there. But the playing field was open and they had room; the only disadvantage was that many balls had been lost in all the shrubbery.
Within the next half-hour, the sky greyed and clouds blocked the sun. Eddie groaned as he felt rain beginning to drizzle on them, quickly becoming thick droplets that plopped against their skin. It was still July! The summer had practically just begun, and the sky was still being shrouded by darkness. It was quite literally 80 degrees Fahrenheit outside, and Eddie felt sweat dripping down his forehead beside the rain that was drenching all of them.
"I think I'm gonna head home," Mike said, his eyes glued to the sky above. He pulled his glove off his left hand slowly, turning his gaze back down to Eddie's. Eddie let out a long sigh and nodded.
"Okay. Are you all going too?" Eddie responded, looking over to the others, who flashed him guilty smiles.
"Yeah, I think so," Beverly finally replied, shrugging her shoulders. She and Mike headed towards their bikes, which leaned against a tree, surrounded by everybody else's. The others followed, giving Eddie apologetic looks as they did. Eddie stood in place, thoroughly disappointed. He stood in place as he watched them all pedal away, one hand running through his dripping hair and the other holding the baseball they had been using. He frowned and glanced around, his shoes melting into the softened dirt below him. It was weird being alone there, though it wasn't super unusual. Sometimes he just sat against the fence by himself when he was procrastinating going back home. His mother always interrogated him like a cop, and he just said the same thing each time.
"Sorry, Ma, lost track of time." "I was just at Bill's house; I wasn't out in the rain." "Don't worry! We were just hanging out."
And she typically accepted it as the truth, her thin-framed glasses falling down her chubby face. She would leave him be until dinner, where she made him take all his stupid placebo vitamins. He would let out a sound of frustration each time, which prompted an outraged glance from his red-faced mother. And when she looked away, Eddie would give her a dirty look in return, clenching his fist in annoyance.
Once he was excused, Eddie cleaned his plate and opted to watch television until he got tired and hit the hay for the night. He refused to let summer bore him and made the most of it.
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Richie Tozier sat at his desk, mindlessly flipping through a Batman comic book. He bounced his knee and was laser-focused on the panels until his mother walked in.
"It's almost midnight!" she scolded. Richie murmured a quiet apology, not tearing his eyes from the comic. Maggie Tozier rolled her eyes and sat on his bed, which was next to his desk. "Can we talk?" she asked. Richie gulped and shut the book after slipping a bookmark in between the pages. He finally looked over to her, but fortunately saw no anger on her face.
"Yeah?" he said nervously, still bouncing his knee, nearly smacking it against his desk as he shifted in his chair.
"You need to be going outside more, hon. It's summer, you should be out having fun," she commented warmly, reaching over and patting his knee, which he took as a sign to force himself to stop jerking it around. Richie wasn't quite sure what to say. The Toziers had moved to Derry only recently, and he hadn't really searched for any friendship opportunities. His mother continued waiting for a response, which he only realized after a minute had passed.
"I know," he said. "It's not the school year, I have no clue where to look for other kids." Maggie nodded understandingly, holding her strong eye contact that always unnerved Richie.
"Take the dog for a walk tomorrow and just explore. People love dogs," she suggested, suddenly standing up. Richie groaned, but agreed. He didn't like Buster that much, but Richie supposed he was okay enough. His mom exited the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Richie shut his eyes in exasperation before returning to his comic book.
In all honesty, Richie was kind of hesitant to find friends for a particular reason. He had quickly realized Derry's stance on people who were different, and was afraid to run into people like that.
Richie had known he was a fag for a while. It ate him alive, and had eliminated any chance of one of those stupid high school romances that he was embarrassed to say that he wanted. He was well aware that he was essentially fucked, and even more so in a small town like Derry. He had been relatively good at hiding it; he tried his absolute best. There had been very few boys he'd ever liked anyway. None of which went anywhere, of course. A boy can dream, though, right?
Richie got up frustratedly, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. All he saw was a loser. A no-good homo. He clenched his jaw and collapsed onto his bed, staring up absently at the ceiling fan. He flipped the switch on the lamp on his nightstand, being swallowed up by the shadows. Another thing he was ashamed to admit was that he was still somewhat scared of the dark and had essentially been doing exposure therapy on himself. He could feel his pulse without even pressing a finger on his carotid, but took deep breaths. "Tomorrow is a new day," he thought to himself cornily-- a quote his mother always repeated to him.
But the thing was, Richie Tozier was not a shy kid by any means. Part of the reason he moved was because he was nearly expelled from his old school for being a smartass and always getting in trouble. Except this was a new place that he was getting used to, and didn't doubt that he would resume his idiotic ways soon enough.
After what felt like an eternity, he fell asleep listening to crickets outside his window, his room warm, grossly hot, and sticky even with ventilation.