3rd Person P.O.V

"What'ya thinks up with Bill, ey?", Stanly questions.

"I don't know," Richie shrugs. "But he's been acting kind of moody lately. In fact, they all have."

They both glance at their friends, all picking at their food and sitting in silence.

Richie's eyes wander to a certain person, sitting alone at a table beside his friends.

(Y/N) (L/N).

He loved everything about her, though they've never spoken in a true conversation. The only interaction he'd ever had with her was when she'd accidentally ran into him, causing them both to drop their materials.

"Oi, Rich? You there?", Stan asks, waving a hand in his face.

"Wha--? Oh, yeah. Well, 'course with this food, who can blame 'em," Richie smirks, answering his other comment, a newfound swagger in his step as he begins to stroll towards the group, only to be pulled back.

He stumbles, barely catching himself as he comes to a stop, looking up to see the notorious and well know school terror, Henry Bowers.

"Well, hey!", Richie grins sarcastically. "How'd it go with your mum?"

"Beep beep, Richie!", Stan groans.

"Alright, twerp. Who threw it? Was it you? It was you, wasn't it," Henry demands. "Tell me! And you might live through this, four eyes!"

Richie only stares, standing in slight shock.

"At Paramount Theater, who DID IT?!" Henry yells.

He sighs when he receives no response, scooping a bit of Richie's mashed potatoes and waiting them on his glasses lenses.

(Y/N) grimaced from afar, unconsciously beginning to clean her own glasses. She only wished she had the bravery Richie had, to stand up to Bowers like Richie had the courage the make jokes out of him.

She'd always admired Richie, but she never gained the courage to talk to him.

She was broken out of her thoughts by a crash. She looks up in a flash, just in time to see Richie's lunch tray fall from Henry's chest.

Henry bolts after Richie, only for him and his gang to slip on the mashed potatoes from Richie's glasses.

Everyone in the lunch room laughs, including (Y/N).

Richie glanced over at her, standing taller in pure glee that he had managed to make the quite girl laugh.

Henry and his gang got up slowly, glaring at the redhead.

"Hey, where ya goin' addy heels?", Richie mocks.

Henry growls, stomping his foot.

Richie panics, turning to run. He runs right into the principle, spilling his food all over.

"Tozier!", he bellows. "Bowers!"

Richie cowers away, quickly looking down as Henry and his gang turn and walk off.

"Go downstairs and get a mop from Mr. Marsh and clean this up!", the principle demands. "(Y/N) (L/N),"

(Y/N) freezes. Had she done something wrong? Was she in trouble? Se stands shakily, suddenly nervous at the mention of her name. The stares from the entire room gave her no extra confidence. She gulps, "Y-yes, sir?"

"Go downstairs with Mr. Tozier and make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."

"Yes, sir."

"NOW!", he snarls.

(Y/N) jumps, rushing by Richie and unconsciously grabbing his hand to drag him to the stairwell.

Richie freezes at the doorway to the stairwell. What if he just embarrassed himself in front of her again?

He sighs, trying to act natural as he heads down the stairs, whistling and cleaning his glasses. (Y/N) follows shyly behind, still not having the courage to get any closer to him.

"Mr. Marsh?", Richie calls, knocking on Mr. Marsh's office door. He knocks again. "Mr. Maaaarsh?"

He sighs, glancing at (Y/N). "Great, just great," he mutters. He starts to walk towards the furnace room. "Yoohoooo, Mr. Maaarsh? You down here?"

(Y/N) looks around nervously.

Richie looks at her, leaning in and whispering, "He's probably drunk as a skunk."

She giggle slightly, her cheeks flushing. "Probably."

Richie smiles in triumph. He made her laugh again.

(Y/N)'s P.O.V

I giggle slightly, my cheeks flushing. "Probably."

Richie smirks, putting his glasses back on and looking to the door. "Mr. Marsh?"

We hear clanking behind one of the machines, and I scoot closer to Richie, bringing my hands to my neck as I rest my chin against them. Bad habit, I guess.

But this didn't feel right.

Richie obliviously moves closer to the shadows and noises. "Uh, Mr--Mr. Marsh? I had a little accident in the cafeteria. (Y/N) was sent to keep an eye on me, no need to worry, but--" Richie was cut off by a low growl.

"Wh-what is...?", I begin.

"No, this isn't--this isn't happening...", Richie mutters.

Richie grabs my hand, dragging me away. Something grabs my other hand, pulling me out of Richie's grip and throwing me to he ground.

'Is that--is that a werewolf?!'

The werewolf grabs ahold of Richie, growling and snarling.

"HELP! HEEEEELP!", Richie begs.

I stand up, running and kicking the werewolf's head. (Yeah, the character does karate. F I T E   M E)

It let's go of Richie, and he quickly grabs my hand again, only to stop and turn around.

I tug on his hand. "Richie, please," I beg, tears brimming my eyes.

He ignores me, staring in shock behind him.

I turn to see what he's looking at and I freeze in terror.

A clown. One of the several flipping phobias I have, and it HAD to be a flipping clown. Shit.

"Holy shit...", I whisper.

The clown waves, and I wrap my arms around Richie's arm. He releases his arm from my grip and wraps both of his own around my shoulders, and instinctively I place mine on his waist.

"Beep beep, (Y/N/N)!", the clown says.

I gasp, hugging Richie tighter.

"Come back anytime!", the clown invites. "I'll show you how to flooooaaaat down here. They all, floooooaaaaat down here."

The clown hides IT's face, uncovering it to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth.

Richie stiffens, running upstairs, but I stay put, too scared to do anything.

The clown advances towards me. "At least you'll stay with me! You'll be a perfect addition to the circus... heheheh..."

I scream, making the clown cover IT's ears.

I take the chance to run upstairs, standing behind the corner to see Richie leaning against a support beam. "--e basement!.... there's a werewolf." He fixes his glasses and everyone bursts out laughing.

I walk out from behind the corner, and luckily, everyone ignored me.

Richie looks to me, and I smile softly and apologetically, going to sit at my seat.
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I walk to my locker, relieved to be heading home after a long, embarrassing day at school. But I couldn't stop thinking about him... about Richie...

'He looks ever better without his glasses... wow, and we were so close...'

But then I think to how he ran up the stairs, leaving me to probably DIE down there, well, if I hadn't screamed.

I look down in disappointment. 'If he does that, is he really worth it?'

But then again, he was scared. We both were. I would've done the same.

I finally open my locker, immediately seeing a note fall out.

I bend down to pick it up, beginning to read it;

'Hello. I'm so sorry about earlier, your probably lucky to be alive. What I did was foolish, and--come on, that was messed up. I'm sorry I got you into this, but, it made me all the more braver when I was with you.

I want to meet you behind the school. I have something--a big something I want to say to you.

Sincerely,
             R.T'

I raise an eyebrow. R.T... it sounds familiar...

Ray Taylor?

Rella Tonani?

Raz Terry?

Wait, they said I was lucky to be alive...

Richie Tozier?
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I speed to the back of the school, peaking out behind the corner to see the familiar red headed boy leaning against the wall, looking down as one foot rests against the wall with his arms crossed.

I clear my throat quietly, catching his attention.

"Y-you came!", he exclaims, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah...", I whisper. "Erm, what did you want to talk to me about? You said you have something important to tell me, or, 'a big something'?"

"Heh... yeah, about that...", Richie's face glows a bright red as he takes my hand. "U-uhm... (Y/N) I've never really been good with this stuff, so, in sorry, in advance. I-I've honestly always admired you, but, I've never  had the courage to walk up to you and talk... God, I'm really not good at this...", he groans. "God, I-I'm sorry, this was a mistake."

He releases my hand, turning to walk away.

I run after him. "Richie, wait!"

He turns around halfway, looking down.

"Listen, get what you were trying to say and... and I feel the same," I explain.

He lifts his head ever so slightly. "R-really?", he whispers.

I nod. "I... I've never been good with words. My actions speak for me, and I think I'd rather have my actions speak."

I sigh, "Here goes..."

I take a breath, leaning in and planting my lips firmly onto Richie's.

He doesn't react.

'Was this all a prank...?'

I pull back, and he's frozen. His eyes were wide as he stared into my eyes, with his arms hanging uselessly at his sides.

"I-I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that, I--God, I'm an idiot...", I briskly turns to walk away, only to be forced back around.

A pair of soft lips meet mine, and I immediately know who it is. I melt into the kiss as Richie's hands find their way to my waist, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

I pull back, looking into his eyes. "That was.... wow," I breath.

"Wow," he agrees, going in for another kiss.