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There was nothing more focusing to Richie than submerging himself in almost ten thousand gallons of water.
He had wanted to join the swim team for the longest time now, and now he had the opportunity to actually do things like that. After Max died, everything was so different! Richie didn't think he'd been called Shit-Lips in months , and he was so happy . He hated to say it, because someone literally died, but everything was so much better without Max around! So, so, so so so much better... He was happy for the first time in he-doesn't-know how long, and everything was going right for him. His best friends were happy, he had so many new friends, and a fucking girlfriend! How the hell did he manage that, you might ask??? Well, it's simple: Stacy is a little freakazoid that likes tall losers with Wet Cat Energy. She had apparently been crushing on him forever and once she realized her friend Steph was trying to woo a nerd of her own, the blonde cheerleader jumped at the opportunity to nab Richie too. So, to summarize, he didn't really do a thing; he's just evidently catnip to cute cheerleaders with the prettiest face (and biggest knockers) he'd ever seen that like Sanrio and boys with the eyes of haunted Victorian children... The girlfriend thing was just the icing on the cake though, in all fairness.
Richie loved swimming, even if the chlorine faded the blue in his hair, and he was honestly still getting used to the idea of showering with other people, so he kept swimming long after the swim team's practice was over. He might as well get all of the practice for the big swim meet at the end of the season that he could fit into his day, because (and don't tell anyone this) he was starting to have hope again. Isn't that something??? Richard Lipshitz hopes for something other than his life ending. He never thought he'd see the day, honestly. But Richie had a plan: he was going to be the guy that brought home the big, shiny gold trophy for first place for the biggest meet of the season and throw it front and fucking center in the trophy case at school! That'd show everyone. He had to get first place. That would really prove that he was worthy of this second lease on life that all of these wonderful changes had given him.
He could hear it now!
Each time he would breach the water's surface, he would hear fellow Nighthawks in the bleachers cheering him on- and his friends would be the loudest, as per usual.
"LET'S GO, RICHIE!!!!" Ruth would be shouting through cupped hands.
"C'MON, RICH!!!" Peter and Steph scream in unison, her hand resting on his anxiously bouncing knee.
He'd only catch snippets of a cheer that he had already heard fifty times because Stacy just loved to tease him with it.
"Richie, Richie, he's our guy! If you're not him, don't even try!"
He thought he usually tracked about thirty or thirty-five extra laps in the twenty or so minutes that it took everyone else on the team to shower and leave, which was good, but it was just falling short of his goal. Regardless, as soon as everyone had left for the day, he went to the empty boy's locker room and rinsed the pool chemicals out of his hair lest he get dye on everything in sight. That was the one thing he was looking forward to when he finished this season: getting to redye his hair! It'd be a complete waste of money if he did it before then.
Cheer practice ended at a perfect time for Stacy to insert herself into his day after her own shower and he knew she was at the door when he heard her knock to the tune of Shave and a Haircut.
Knock knock knock-knock knock knock-knock......................................... knock.
Richie couldn't help the smile that plastered itself onto his face, walking the couple yards to the door and opening it for her.
"Guess who?" She said with a big smile, her hair damp and wearing a pair of pink sweatpants and a school-branded tank top, duffle bag slung over her shoulder. "Hey, look, we match!" She pointed to his Hatchetfield High swim shirt and trunks.
"You make that joke every time," he pointed out with a bashful smile.
"And I'll stop saying it once it stops giving me that cute little look on your face," Stacy chirped as she walked past him, pulling a heart shaped brush out of her bag. "Practice was sooo boring; I was looking forward to spending time with you the whole time."
"Really?"
She nodded, starting to tie her hair into two messy twin braids. "We were rehearsing a routine I've had down since I was on the JV cheer team and Sarah Zimmerman got mad at me when I asked why I needed to be there when I knew it already."
"Yeah, that doesn't make sense; you already know it! You could have used that time much more efficiently, like choreographing a new routine or something of the like."
" Exactly , ugh. I wish I understood what some of these people are talking about, ya know?"
Richie sat next to her and she grabbed his towel from the bench and tossed it around his shoulders, wrapping it around his torso all the way and leaned forward to rest her chin on his shoulder.
"How was swim practice? Good day?"
Richie shrugged and turned to see her in his peripherals. "Practice was fine, but I'm upset for no reason, I think."
"Overstimulated?"
He raised a hand to one of the arms wrapped around him as she started to pull away. "No. Please don't let go."
Richie felt her smile against his shoulder. "Okay, I won't... Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Mmm... Maybe later?"
Stacy nodded and dropped the subject for now, reaching up with a towel-covered hand to wipe the water from his neck, and she hesitated. "Would kisses help?" She whispered to him, and Richie bit his lip. He was still getting used to kisses, in all honesty. They were both very nervous and awkward towards the beginning of their relationship, and it had taken a while for Richie (despite being a touch-starved motherfucker) to get acclimated to physical contact from someone new, much less kissing . Don't get him wrong, though, he loved kisses. It was just new, unfamiliar , and he wasn't great with 'unfamiliar'.
"I don't think it'd hurt to try..." He answered, his face flushing and he heard a little snicker from her at his flustered reaction.
She gently wiped some rolling droplets of water from his cheek and pressed her lips to the dry skin, holding her cheek up against his as the water from his hair wet hers again. He tried to conceal his smile at that, and she tentatively reached up with the towel to dry his hair, further messing up the already disheveled style as she soaked up the water in his brown and blue hair. She held out her hairbrush, and when he didn't take it from her, she started detangling his mop of hair on her own, humming a little song to herself as she brushed through his hair. Richie reached up to scratch an itchy part of his head, but she quickly did it for him and he sighed to himself as she dragged her manicured nails through his hair, leaning into her touch. Stacy smooched the underside of Richie's jaw when he least expected it, and he squeaked in surprise from the feeling.
Stacy let out an evil giggle. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself." She ran her fingers through his half-dried locks a couple more times as she returned to humming to herself.
"Not complaining, just surprised..." He assured her quietly, humming in content as she raked her short acrylic nails across his scalp.
One thing he learned about Stacy over the course of their friendship-quickly-turned-relationship is that she downright spoils people with attention, especially him. She draped herself across his back, pressing herself into him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He heard her sigh calmly, started playing with the hem of his long-sleeved swim shirt as he relaxed into her touch.
"I want to get first place at the big swim meet at the end of the season," he admitted quietly, not wanting to break the peaceful air.
"That's nice, Richie. I bet a lot of training is gonna go into that."
"Yeah, but like..." He put one of his hands on the hand fussing with his shirt, keeping it still so she’d focus on him. "I... I want to win. I want people to hear my name and think 'He's a winner' ..."
" Oh! This is like... A thing. " An excited grin started to form on her face, and she shifted her hand to lace her fingers with his.
Richie laughed slightly. "Yeah, it's 'a thing'... I haven't told anyone else yet... That I want it."
Stacy squeezed his hand encouragingly. "I'm honored I'm the first one to hear about it. That's a big thing, Richie- I don't think our school has brought home a trophy for swim in, like, a decade or two at least."
"Yeah... I want to be the reason a big gold award gets put in that trophy case... And everyone will pass me in the hall and say 'Great job, Richard.'"
"'We knew you could do it, Lipschitz.'" She added in her best impression of Mr. Houston, the football coach, and Richie snickered.
"Exactly... Wouldn't that be nice?"
"'Richard Lipschitz, the cutiest, patootiest winner there ever was.'"
"Oh my god, quit it," he insisted with a little laugh.
He felt Stacy shake her head no. "No way, why would I quit it? You're my cutie patootie, my pogchamp." She wrapped her free arm around his waist. "My lil kitty, my blue-haired boo."
"What was that third one?"
"I said 'you're so pretty.'"
"Stacy..." He turned as far around as he could to face her, only to see her looking up at him with a little smile and an awestruck look in her eyes, and his demeanor immediately turned bashful. " Stooooooop ..." Her grin just grew at his flustered whining.
He turned back away from her again and Stacy tossed one leg over the locker room bench to straddle it, pressing herself further into Richie's back, pulling him close as they silently held hands, enjoying the warmth the other provided. Richie felt the water moving him around even though he was long out of the pool and Stacy could still imagine the whipping of the wind as she flipped around in the gym, and this moment of stillness was so unbelievably needed and just getting to breathe in each other's presence. Something was nagging at Stacy's mind though, and despite sitting in the silence for ten or so minutes, she couldn't fully enjoy the peace without quenching her curiosity.
"Rich, you want first place, like... For you , right?"
“I don’t get what you mean.”
“It’s not just so that people tell you that you did a good job?” She elaborated. “Cause I could tell ya that, like, every day.”
For quite a few moments, Richie didn’t answer her, and she leaned over and around him to be able to see his face. His eyebrows were furrowed thoughtfully and his mouth was pressed into a hard line.
“Richie?”
“I dunno…” He answered. “I… I don’t see how wanting people to tell me I did a good job is a bad thing…”
“What if you got second place instead of first?”
His mouth hung open like he was going to answer, but didn’t have the words to say, and he turned part of the way to be able to face Stacy better.
“Is it the wrong answer to say I’d be disappointed?” Richie asked.
“There’s no wrong answers, hon,” she assured him. “There’s just your feelings, okay?”
Richie tried to conceal the majority of his grin. “I guess that’s fair…”
He tried to put together his thoughts. “I just… My life feels like it’s been so great lately.” Even though she was fidgeting with the fabric of her sweatpants, he knew she was listening, nodding along to what he was saying. “I wanna show that I earned it, you know? I’m worthy of all the great things happening in my life right now.”
Stacy’s brows furrowed. That’s what was bothering her. “You think you needed to earn this?”
“... I guess so? I just want people to know I’m worth the kindness they’re giving me- I can make sure things stay good!”
“Richie, you don’t need to earn not getting bullied. You don’t need first place for people to be nice to you- hell, you don’t even need a trophy at all for that…” She rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry you feel the need to prove that you don’t deserve to be treated like shit.”
“Stacy-”
“Second place, third place, even not on the podium, the rest of us will still cheer you on, yeah?”
Richie squeezed her hand, one set of their hands still intertwined, and she lifted her head to look up at him.
“What happens if things suddenly go back to the way they were?” He whispered. “I… I really don’t want to go back. I’m so sick of being a loser! I-I can’t go back to how things were, Stacy, I can’t-”
Stacy gasped, interrupting him as she pulled him into her, hugging him tightly with a hand in his hair as she shushed him comfortingly. “It’s okay, Richie, it won’t. I promise it won’t. It’s been this way for three months; I don’t think it’s gonna change… You were never meant to be treated so shamefully , Baby, you don’t have to earn anything. ”
Richie tried to calm his breathing before his asthma kicked in and he embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl (whose tits were practically in his face, mind you) as he tried to soak up her touch the same way a towel soaks up water..
“I’ll support you no matter what reason you want first place for, Richie, but make sure you want it because it’d make you happy to be first , not because you’re scared to not be first, okay?”
Richie took a deep breath, definitely not savoring the scent of her post-cheer body wash (the scent was dahlias and strawberries and it was comforting as fuck so he was totally fucking savoring it ). “I need to prove that I’m worth it, Stacy… To myself.”
Stacy frowned, but that one she could allow a little more than the former option. “That is doing it for you… Technically..” She hummed as she petted his hair. “But for the record, you don’t have to prove you deserve to be treated like a human being. It should have always been this way… And if anyone tries to tell you any differently, I’ll kick them so hard their head spins around like a Looney Tunes character.”
Richie scoffed slightly. “Are you gonna kick their head??”
“... Yeah. Yeah, I can kick that high. I’ll spin someone’s jaw if they talk shit about ya. I can try to do it, like, mid-flip too; that’d be cool. ”
He laughed a little bit at that. “Thank you, Stacy… I feel better- I think that’s what was bothering me.”
She beamed excitedly. “I’m glad I could help! If you ever feel like you need to talk about feeling like you’re undeserving, you can always talk to me- or Peter and Ruth! I’m sure they’re going through the same thing…” Richie sat up to look her in the eyes, and she saw a few tears had fallen down his face. “You’re not alone, Richie… We’re all right here for you, okay?” She quietly assured him as she gently wiped them away. He couldn’t help but just smile softly and nod.
“I wish we had gotten to know each other sooner…”
“Me too…” She smiled sadly. "... Richie?”
“Hai?”
“I know it’s still kind of new, but… Can… Can I kiss you?"
Richie’s jaw fell open slightly as he stared at her more like she suggested they got married right that instant, and he nodded shyly as his cheeks coated themselves pink. Stacy grinned, taking his face into her hands delicately and leaning up to tenderly press her lips into his. He had no idea what flavor her lip balm was, but upon their first kiss the month prior, he had easily decided that it was his new favorite flavor- something sweet and tangy, whatever it was. One of her hands drifted from his cheek to his chin to pull him ever so slightly further into her lips, smiling against his mouth as he let out a little mewl of satisfaction from the deepened kiss.
The two separated before things became too heated, both smiling sheepishly as they gazed into each other’s eyes with stars in their own until they forced themselves to look away with an embarrassed giggle. The air between them was energetic, excited, and joyful, and yet neither of them made any move to return to the other’s embrace as Stacy fidgeted with the end of one of her braids and Richie rocked back and forth in place. A few moments later, Richie spoke up, breaking the pleasant silence.
"Thank you,” he said, even though he didn’t know why he was thanking her.
"For what?"
Richie shrugged. "I don’t know... For liking me, I guess?"
Stacy beamed at him with adoration in her gaze. “You don't make it very difficult,” she replied cheekily and Richie covered his immediate smile with his hand, turning towards his shoulder to try to hide his bashfulness. She snickered, burying her mouth in her own hands so she didn’t start flapping them excitedly. “You’re so cute when you get all flustered…” She said, her hands muffling herself, and he made a little happy noise under his hand at the statement.
“Thank you…” he replied sheepishly. “Uh… I have a question.”
“Go for it!”
“What’s your lip balm flavor? I-I um… I remember the flavor every time we kiss…”
Stacy blushed from the fact that he remembered the taste of her lips just as much as he blushed admitting so, and pulled a tube of lip smackers with a little cartoon frog on it. “It’s kiwi. Look, Keroppi’s on it!”
“Oh, it’s Sanrio!”
She nodded excitedly. “It is!!! I’m using them in order in the package, so I already used the Hello Kitty one- that one was apple flavored- and I lost the strawberry one with My Melody on it, but it’s either somewhere in my room, or my dad threw it out cause I left it in my pocket when I put my clothes in the washing machine, but- sorry, I’m ranting, aren’t I?”
“No! No, you- you were - but I didn’t mind- I liked hearing you ramble…” He assured her. “It’s… Nice to know someone else talks as much as I do… And I talk a lot.”
“I like hearing you talk a lot!”
“I like hearing you talk a lot!.”
“Do you wanna, maybe, go back to my house? We can cuddle in my bed, all cozied up with all my stuffies and big fluffy blankets, and each other, and we can talk a lot until we both fall asleep- or even not talk at all if we get tired or talking?”
“And then I can get us sushi from Kroger when you drive me home?”
“ Oh , you are a genius !” She started to flap her hands but quickly redirected to give his idea a little flurry of applause. “So smart! Change outta your swimsuit so we can leave now!”
He nodded, setting down the towel that had already fallen off one of his shoulders, and grabbed his bag from the floor, unzipping it and pulling out his change of clothes- all three of his top layers and his pair of shorts. Richie looked over at Stacy, who was watching intently.
“ Uhhhhh , Stace?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you cover your eyes?” He asked, and Stacy blushed in embarrassment, holding her hands over her eyes. He sighed, and began to take off his swim shirt. “Thank you………………… I can see you peeking.”
She giggled maniacally. “Can you blame me?” She asked, spreading her fingers out to make her spying more obvious. “Awoooga!”
His face scrunched up in embarrassment. “Quit it!”
“Okay, okay, I won’t look, promise.” She pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes and turned away to allow him to change in peace.
Eventually, Richie had his three layers of shirts and his cargo shorts on, and slung his duffle bag over his shoulder when Stacy picked up hers.
“I was thinking we could pick up some boba first,” Stacy suggested. “There’s a little donut shop on the way that has great drinks.”
Richie’s face lit up. “And you called me a genius??”
Stacy wrapped her arm around his waist and he threw his free arm around her shoulders, the two of them walking to the door across the room, and Stacy stopped as they passed a mirror on the wall, backing up so they could both look into it.
“Hey, Richie, you see that guy?”
“Yeah, that’s how mirrors work.”
She grinned up at him, and he studied the adoring expression on her face in the mirror. “He’s a winner.” She looked at him in the mirror and Richie leaned his head onto hers as he looked at himself.
And for the first time in a while, Richie smiled at his own reflection. “Maybe he is…”