𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 | ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴜʀɪꜱ ¹

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU MANAGE TO SNEAK THROUGH THE SECOND STORY WINDOW OF THE CHEIF OF POLICE'S HOUSE," Veronica said, glancing back over her shoulder.

Stanley Uris sat beside her, with illustrations of birds in devotion to his favorite subject. Bird feathers of every color had been laid inside. The smaller, newer one was painted in swirls of light blue and gray with white raindrops and yellow bolts of lightning. Taped inside was a newspaper clipping of the Eastern Bluebird, Stans favorite Maine native bird, glued in the center of the black-and-white picture, wings at its side and beaming.

Two years ago, Stanley had kissed Veronica when she gave him the scrapbook. Even though friend group breakups were common in their middle school, this one tore through the club, requiring the group to split up for good. Veronica arrived in Detention once and managed to stay there almost every day after school—including the final day of it.

"Oh, I sneak into your window every night," Stanley lied as he handed over his book.

"Oh? How so?" Veronica asked, eyebrows pinching.

Stanley frowned, confused. "They call me the midnight Barber!"

"Well, Stanley Barber—if thats even your real name—thats an infringement on peoples liberties."

"Is it?" Stanley snorted as he took book and shoved them into the pocket of his backpack.

"Yeah, so don't ever be doing that to me."

Veronica had only been seven years old when she met Stanley, so they had been friends for years before he kissed her. What she did know was that after the kiss, she refused to hang out with the group for the rest of the year. She even told Henry about it, and his friend group sort of destroyed The Club's reputation.

"Oh, but I do do it to you." He grinned, the conversation sending his heart racing. But when he looked up, Veronica looked worried.

"What?" Veronica said, bumping her fist against the ground in an attempt to reassure herself. "You dont—There's no—"

That seemed to ease the tension in Stanley's expression. He was back to his apple-cheeked smile. "Who do you think cuts your hair, Einstein?"

Veronica snatched a mixtape and shoved it into her already full backpack. "My hair just doesn't grow very fast."

Stanley laughed as Veronica slapped her palm one last time. "What? You think it stays that length naturally?" Stanley called after her as she went to go join the conversation with the others. "I'm in there, in the night, just styling away."

Veronica bolted for the seat beside Bill. "How dare you do that to me in the night—when I'm oblivious."

"I do my best work when you're oblivious!" Stanley said with a grin. "I lean you up against the pillow and I go at it!"

"That's perverted," Veronica called.

"—just grown-ups. Kids are worse. Way worse." Ben said as Veronica slipped onto the rock. Silence hung through the air. "I've got more stuff if you wanna see it." Ben's voice followed.

***

Veronica tried to make out what they were saying, but everyone in the group was all shouting at once, panicked cries tumbling over one another. A crowd of bodies surged into her, nearly knocking Veronica over. That was when the sharp smell of body odor hit her nose.

Veronica tried to get on her tiptoes for a better look. In Ben's bedroom, old newspaper articles billowed from where the wall sat. All at once, the sounds in the room became clear.

"Cool, huh?" Ben asked, hoping for the others to have the least bit of excitement he had.

"No, nothing cool." Richie pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "There's nothing cool."

Veronica searched and found photos of Derry from ages ago. She pushed her way through the crowd and crouched down in front of the pictures.

"What's that?" Veronica asked as calmly as possible with adrenaline slamming through her body. "Some kind of party invitation?"

"That's the charter for Derry Township," Ben noted.

Richie pushed his glassed up the bridge of his nose. "Nerd alert."

"Actually, its-its really interesting," Ben said, putting his focus on Veronica. "Derry actually started out as a Beaver trapping camp."

"Still is? Am I right, boys?" Richie put his hand up for someone to high-five him

The sound of Veronica's high-five split the air. The silence in the room exploded into shards. Richie tugged his hand to his chest and crouched over.

After that, Veronica needed no more encouragement to stop trying to befriend Richie. Veronica stared down at her ex-best friend. Her heart thudded in her chest, her mind flashing to all the fun times she and Richie used to share together.

"Ninety-one people signed the charter that made Derry," Ben told the group, "but later that winter, they all disappeared without a trace."

Eddie's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "The entire camp?"

Ben crossed his arms and continued, "There were rumors of Indians, but no signs of an attack." Veronica learned close towards the picture for a better look. "They all just thought it was a plague or something, but.. its like..one day everyone just woke up and left."

"Wasn't there anything?" Veronica pulled her eyes away from the photo. "A clue, maybe?"

Ben nodded, answering her question. "The only clue was a trail of bloody clothes leading to the well house."

"Jesus," Eddie muttered. "We could get Derry on Unsolved Mysteries."

The group kept muttering to themselves, talking about inside jokes that Veronica was no longer a part of. When she would try to get into the conversation, Richie would shove her aside like some old arcade game that he was no longer a fan of. Which, in Veronicas case, was partially true. She was nothing but an old friend that Richie didn't like and didn't care if he kept out of contact with.

"Where is the well house?"

Ben shook his head, racking his brain for the information that Bill craved. "Uhh, somewhere in town, I guess. Why?"

"Nothing."