Chapter Text
Richie's senior year started up in the middle of August.
The morning of his first day, he woke up earlier than he had in months, yearning to go back to bed. When he was finally able to get himself up, he got dressed and stared at himself in his bedroom mirror for a solid five minutes, judging his own outfit - a patterned button up with a band tee and jeans. Then he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and judged his own face. Then he went brushed his teeth and grabbed some toast for breakfast.
He piled into his car later than he had planned on. He didn't even bother putting a CD into the player before he left the house.
Derry High school was far away from Main Street, hidden in the back of town. It was only seven minutes from Richie's house but after having his old school just down the street, it seemed insanely far.
It was also much larger than his old school. He had gone to a small private school that prided itself on "individuality" and "high academics." This one was just a generic public school that took in kids from a bunch of tiny neighboring towns.
He felt intimidated as he pulled his car into the senior parking lot. He'd been here before to take a tour and make his schedule, but it was still scary, especially now that all of the kids were there.
Luckily, he was starting the same day as everyone else, so he was standing out much less.
Richie psyched himself up to get out of his car.
"We'll be fine," he muttered to himself. "We'll be alright. It's only for a year."
He sighed.
As soon as he climbed out of his car, a white Ford honked at him.
"Hey!" a boy shouted at him, leaning out of his window. He looked like a fully grown adult. "This parking lot is for seniors, dipshit!"
Richie glared at him. "I am a senior, asshole!" he shouted back, flipping off the entitled jerk.
Jesus, these people suck, he thought to himself as he walked in.
There were two rows of metal detectors in the main entrance. Richie had metal detectors at his old school, of course, but they were much more lax. He grabbed his backpack straps as he waited in line.
In front of him, the detectors went off.
"Keep it going," said the security officer to a girl who had stopped when the detectors went off on her.
Seriously? Richie thought. What the hell were the metal detectors gonna do if they didn't check?
He sighed. It was Derry. He needed to lower his expectations.
When he was finally in the building, Richie looked down at his schedule. His first class was Musical Theatre with a man named Dr. Clements. It was all the way at the far back end at the school in the room next to the performing arts center. Richie had two classes there, Musical Theatre and Advanced Theatre.
He really hoped he liked Dr. Clements, because he was going to be seeing him a lot.
The room was set up like the average underfunded theater classroom. The long desks were pressed together in the shape of a U with chairs along the outer edge, leaving a large empty rectangle space in the middle outlined with black tape. There were two small spotlights on either side of the bare spot to light the area like a proper stage. The teacher's desk sat near the back wall next to the whiteboards.
As soon as Richie entered, someone said, "Is that Richie Tozier?"
From across the room he made eye contact with Beverly. She was wearing a tank top covered in colorful buttons and matching dangly earrings, and Richie wondered if he made them herself. Next to her was a boy with dark skin and close-cropped hair who was reading a book.
Richie grinned. A weight was lifted off his chest. Thank God that the one person he knew was in his first class of the day.
"Well, well," said Richie, trying to hide the relief in his voice. "If it isn't Ms. Ringwald."
"It's a small world," she said brightly. "Come sit over here!"
Richie sat down on her right and let his backpack fall to the floor. "You're into theatre, too?" he asked.
"Hell yes," said Beverly with a grin. "I've been in every program since ninth grade."
"Same," said Richie.
"That's fantastic!" Bev gestured to the boy next to her. "Mike here is also super involved. He's a brilliant singer."
"I'm not that good," said the boy, looking up from his book for the first time. "Peter's just as good as I am."
"Yeah, well, Peter's an asshole, so he doesn't count," Bev told him.
Mike looked over at Richie. "Are you new here?"
"Yup," said Richie. "I just moved to Derry."
"Good luck," said Mike, but he was smiling. "I was new last year, so I get it."
"Where'd you move from?" Richie asked.
"Oh, I've lived here all my life," Mike clarified. "I was just homeschooled."
Richie nodded with understanding.
There were six other kids in the classroom. One stood out; a short girl with bright blonde hair who looked too young to be in high school. She must be a freshman. Along with her were two boys who were talking quietly and a group of three girls on their phones.
"How's your first day going?" Bev asked after a moment of silence.
Richie crossed his arms. "I got harassed as soon as I parked. Some asshole in a truck yelled at me about the senior parking lot. Even though I'm literally a senior."
Bev shared a look with Mike.
"Probably Henry Bowers," said Mike. "He's the worst."
For a second, Richie froze.
Bowers?
"Yeah, and he's a super senior," said Bev. "I'm pretty sure he's, like, twenty."
Before he could respond, the door swung open and a man stepped in. He was short and was wearing a red cardigan and jeans. In his hands was a stack of large papers.
"Clements, you're late," said one of the girls.
"For your information, Marcia, I was printing fliers," the teacher said. "Next time, I'll ask for your permission." Beverly let out a small huff of laughter.
Dr. Clements went to the back of his room and settled at his desk. "Alright, let's take role."
"Marcia's here, Mike's here, Beverly's here, Cheryl's here, Betty's here..." His eyebrows furrowed. "Wow, and there's quite a few new kids this year." He looked up. "Donald?"
"I go by Don," said one of the boys. He was tall with neat brown hair.
"Thanks for letting me know, I'll write that down," he said. "Adrian?"
The boy next to Don raised his hand. He had curly hair and was shorter than his friend. "Here."
"Esther?"
The blonde girl raised her hand silently.
"Nice to meet you guys," he said with a smile. Then he looked to Richie. "I assume that makes you Richard?"
"At your service," said Richie with a small salute. "And it's Richie."
"Noted," said Clements. "I have you in another class, right?"
"Advanced Theatre," said Richie.
Clements furrowed his eyebrows. "How did you manage that?"
"I did theatre at my old school."
The teacher nodded. "Got it."
Then he stood. "Well, for those of you who are new, I'm Dr. Clements, but I'm not really a stickler for titles, so you can call me whatever you want. I have a PHD in theatre and I've been a director for fifteen years, so believe me when I tell you that I know what I am doing." He looked around the room with his eyebrows raised as if to ask for a challenge. Nobody challenged him.
He continued. "This is musical theatre, so we will be singing. I won't be judging you on your singing capabilities because I guarantee that they are better than mine. But we will be performing a lot, so if you're not willing to do that, this may not be the class for you." He clapped his hands together. "Any questions?"
Nobody moved.
"Perfect. Now, I don't have anything planned for today because I'm currently in an email argument trying to get the administration to care about the performing arts department, so we'll start tomorrow." He stepped back to his desk. "Beverly, Mike, would you do me a favor and put up these fliers?"
"Yup," said Bev, standing up with Mike. "Richie's coming too."
Dr. Clements made a noise of acknowledgement and went back to his computer.
Beverly grabbed the fliers and the tape and went out the door. Mike and Richie tailed behind her. Richie was glad to be getting out of the classroom and seeing more of the school. He was irrationally nervous about getting lost.
"What are the fliers for?" Richie asked her.
"The musical," said Beverly. "Auditions are next week."
Richie's eyebrows raised. "Wow, that's soon."
She nodded. "Yeah. We do two performances a year so we have to start quickly. But we have two stagecraft classes working on the set and rehearsals every afternoon so we get it done well."
These productions seemed bigger than the ones at Richie's old school. He was excited.
Beverly grinned. "We're doing Beetlejuice this year."
At that, Richie lit up. "No shit, really?"
"Yep!" said Beverly. "We voted on it at the end of last year. It was a battle between Beetlejuice and Shrek."
"That's great," said Richie. "Beetlejuice, is, like, my dream role."
"You should definitely audition for it," Beverly said. "You'd be fantastic, I think." She sighed. "My dream role is Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd. Or, like, anyone from Mean Girls."
"Sweeney Todd would be so fun." Richie turned to Mike. "What about you, Homeschool? What do you think?"
"Homeschool?" Mike asked with a grin.
Richie shrugged. "I like nicknames."
Mike didn't question further. "I'd like to be Audrey II," he said. "I like acting but it would be great to get to be off-stage."
"Understandable," said Richie. He held out a hand. "Can I see a flier?"
Bev handed him one. He quickly scanned over it.
Derry High Presents:
BEETLEJUICE
Open Auditions on August 21st at 3:15 P.M.
No former experience required.
Come prepared with a song of your choice.
For questions or concerns, please contact Mr. Clements, Ms. Bainbridge, or Edward Kaspbrak.
"Who's Edward Kaspbrak?" Richie asked.
Bev grinned. "Oh, Eddie is the stage manager. He's in our grade. He's nice, but he can be a petty little bitch. So you should stay on his good side."
"He's our best friend," Mike elaborated. "Well, one of them. But he's great. Even if he's a micromanager."
"Fair," said Richie.
In the next few minutes, Mike, Beverly, and Mike hung up twenty posters around the school. It was probably overkill, but, as Beverly said, it would hopefully get people to audition.
By the end of the class period, Richie was relieved. He hadn't connected with kids his age as fast as he'd connected to them in years.
It gave him hope for the school year.
But as he laid in his bed that night, he randomly remembered the name "Bowers."
He shuddered.