richie absolutely refuses to shut up about this date.

some girl you don’t know, don’t care about, and honestly don’t even want to hear the name of. he keeps pacing your room, then flopping onto your bed, then pacing again—like he physically cannot contain the sheer magnitude of his own thoughts. it’s exhausting. especially when he keeps going on about the movie. that movie. the one you’d maybe mentioned, once, that you wanted to see. the one you’d maybe imagined seeing with him, joking and sharing popcorn and—

you’re not bitter. not at all. no matter what he says.

richie sprawls out on his back across your bed, limbs everywhere, his head dangling dramatically off the edge so his curls brush the carpet. he talks upside down, voice louder than necessary. “i mean, what if she wants to, like—mack on this?” he gestures vaguely at his face, hands flailing. “i don’t even know how that works! do you tilt? do you just go for it? god, i’m gonna look like such an idiot.”

you don’t respond. you don’t need to. he keeps going anyway.

“how pathetic is that?” he groans. “a junior who doesn’t even know how to kiss. i should be studied. put in a museum. ‘here lies richard tozier, died never having any game whatsoever.’”

he rambles on, words tumbling over each other, not even checking to see if you’re listening. you sit on the edge of your desk chair, arms crossed, trying very hard not to read too much into the way your chest tightens every time he says she.

then, suddenly—movement.

richie snaps upright in record time, eyes lighting up like he’s just cracked the code to the universe. you barely have time to blink before he’s sitting cross-legged on your bed, staring at you with that dangerous, excited grin.

“wait. what if—” he starts, already using the tone that makes you shake your head instinctively.

“no,” you say immediately.

“—we kiss,” he finishes anyway. “as practice! think about it. totally platonic. purely educational.” he points between the two of you. “it’ll be good for you, too!”

you stare at him, unimpressed, heat creeping up your neck despite yourself.

he leans forward, eyes wide, suddenly very serious. then he clasps his hands together like he’s about to pray. “c’mon. for your best friend. please, please, please?” he shakes his hands dramatically, begging without shame. “you know you can’t say no to all this.”

he finishes with a ridiculous wiggle of his eyebrows, clearly very proud of himself.

you absolutely can say no.

the problem is… you’re not sure you want to.