a summer day
Richie’s eyes settled on Stan, soft curls, pale features, and the loveliest pink in his cheeks. He was soft-spoken and wise and Richie adored him. Boys weren’t supposed to be pretty but Stanley just was. He was so pretty and so unaware of it, from the tips of his neatly trimmed nails to the top of his mess of sandy-blonde curls. His words were often joking but always had a hint of affection in them. Stanley was rain in june, a bird’s song, the stillness of the ocean early in the morning.
He dragged his eyes over to Beverly, the prettiest girl in the world in his four eyes . She was much more than just a pretty girl though, she was fearless, caring, and so kind it made Richie’s chest ache. Her beauty was not only skin deep, but far deeper. Her firey red hair matched her soul, and the freckles that dotted her face reminded him of the constellations they saw when they star gazed in the fall, her eyes were like diamonds and Richie prayed he’never forget them. Beverly was the warmth of fire, the feeling of the first day of summer, a butterfly in may.
Bill, their fearless leader, the boy that Richie pins as his first love. Auburn hair and scrapped knees, sticking up for his best friends to boys much older and far bigger than he. Bill was an enigma to Richie, a beautiful mix of heroic and humble. He was almost as tall as Richie now and filling out with muscle and richie could hardly breathe anymore. He played baseball so effortlessly and was the best brother to Georgie. Bill was the feeling of snow on christmas morning, the smell of freshly cut grass, the laughter between best friends.
His attention drifted to Mike, god how he loved Mikey. The boy who was once unsure of himself and how he fit into their misfit family now smiled the prettiest smiles and laughed the brightest laughter. His skin shone in the summer sun like nothing else, and his eyes were the loveliest shade of honey. His kind soul and tender touch felt like a taste of heaven on earth. Richie was positive if he’d ever met an angel it was in the form of Mike. Mike was the comfort of a hug, the taste of fresh lemonade, the feeling of tenderness.
Then came Ben, or Ben Handsome as he was so affectionately called. Though he wasn’t the pudgy kid he was a few summers ago, his heart was still as full of the same love and loyalty now. Ben had a way with words like no other, the first to help and the last to go home. Richie admired his beautiful feautures, his newly acquired height, toned muscle, and the mess of soft, dark blonde locks that fell in his eyes every once in a while. Ben was the feeling of a first kiss, a bouquet of roses, the calmness of night.
Eddie, the boy richie teased until he cried from the day they met, a mix of tender affection and the short tempered-ness much like that of a child. His long eyelashes cast shadows in the late afternoon sun, and caught rain in the spring. Eddie, though hot headed, was a sweet boy who’d give the world to make any of his friends smile. His delicate feautures, covered in freckles from the years in the sun, reminded him of home. Eddie was the sunshine after a storm, the sparklers on the fourth of july, the sweetest smile.
Richie was in love, so far gone for the six most important people in his life that it was laughable. A puppet to his emotions, Richie hoped that one day he’d finally be able to tell the deepest and darkest secret to them without them running for the hills. But today, he lays back against the grass and dozes off with Stan’s hand resting idly in his hair and Bev’s legs crossed over his.