Liar // Patrick Hockstetter x fem!Reader x Henry Bowers

Twenty-Eight 》But My Ass

The group of kids crouched down in between some bushes, trying to make as less noise as possible. Their heads were peaking out above the leafs, so they could take a look at you two.

They had followed you only to be met with seeing the both of you, talking and sitting on one of the bigger stones near a stream.

The water that was splashing was clear and blue-ish, some droplets hitting you both at the legs.

A bottle of beer was placed next to Patrick. It looked dangerously easy to get thrown over, but apparently he wasn't stupid or clumsy enough to do so.

The gap between the both of you was maybe ten or eleven inches big, causing Bill and Richie to feel at least some sort of relief.

Beverly and Ben looked at each other, trying to determine the relationship of you and the lanky boy infront of them.

They weren't able to see your faces, so they couldn't see how you looked at one another. But they were able to hear whay you were saying.

"There's no way Henry stayed six weeks. And while being loyal? Should I really believe you?", he snickered, even though the part about Henry being loyal and staying with some girl was truly odd for him.

"Could we just", you began, flicking small rocks into the creek. "I don't know... stop talking about him?", you asked.

He rolled his eyes before taking a sip from his bottled alcohol and handing it to you.

"I don't think I sh-"

"Come on. You need to get your mind off him.", he encouraged.

The short laugh you let out afterwards didn't feel real. At the moment, none of your emotions really did. But Patrick kept showing you that they were by speaking openly about them and about what was going on inside of your head.

By mentioning these emotions. By trying to "help" you.

He could see when you were feeling genuinely good and bad. Which meant there was one question that remained: was that a good or a bad thing?

You didn't wait long to think about it.
You just grabbed the bottle and drank a bit before placing it onto the cold rock. The boy was looking at you as you did so, a smile on his lips.

"So, what do you wanna talk about?", he asked as he leaned a little closer to you, but also forward. His head hung low as he let his hand sink into the wetness of the brook.

"Mind telling me why you were so angered by your brother and his little faggot friends? Last time I checked, they were the only ones you cared about.", he chuckled.

The club was relieved to hear so, but was now even more invested in your story and what laid beneath you, pushing them away.

Even though him, calling them Bill's "faggot friends", angered them a lot.

You said nothing while you looked into the glistening water, in which he still rested his hand. To your relief, words were soon spoken by the boy himself: "As if you couldn't trust me. Just fucking tell.", he mumbled, tilting his head to the side to glare at you.

Still, you didn't respond. You didn't once lift your gaze off him, because you couldn't speak or move.

Body as motionless as your face. Your left knee was still slightly angled, so your foot could rest on top of the stone while your right leg was still swinging only inches above the water.

On one hand, you weren't sure what to say and on the other hand, you didn't fell comfortable enough to tell Patrick this much about your feelings, yet.

After a heavy sigh, the long-haired guy pinched the brick of his nose with his now wet hand.

He looked at you whilst he moved up again.
"We should get drunk."
"What?"

You stared at him in confusion, completely uncertain of what to reply other than that. How did he got this idea all of a sudden?

"Are you fucking deaf? I said, that we should get drunk.", he teased, a bit of real annoyance swinging in his voice.

"But-", you tried to refuse his "offer" before you got rudely interrupted by him, saying: ""But" my ass. Stand up."

He jumped off of the rock, grabbed his bottle of beer and held out his hand for you to take.

What a gentleman... not.

After getting a hold of his hand, you were surprised to be met with such coldness. How were his hands so fucking cold?

You wasted no timerr jumping off the rock and stumbling against Patrick's chest as soon as your feet hit the ground.

With an unidentifiable noise coming out of you, you flinched away.

"Sorry...", you whispered in a hush. Then, you waited for him to gain posture again until he started to lead you both out of the woods.

While he was walking along the pretty empty area, you were grounding yourself for being too fucking clumsy.

You didn't want Patrick to think you were hitting on him. Because you weren't.

The Loser Club watched in confusion. "Maybe he's blackmailing her.", Richie mumbled, not believing that the Hockstetter boy could have befriended you.

"Or they're just friends.", Beverly muttered quietly.

"Then what was that thing about Bowers?", Stanley wanted to know, raising his eyebrows.

"Maybe they were a couple.", Beverly spoke once again. "There's no way.", Richie exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands into the air.

"R-Right! M-m-my sister ha-hated Henry and his f-f-f-friends.", Bill followed, defending his sibling.

"It doesn't seem like she does.", Eddie now responded, taking part in the conversation. "At least not anymore.", Ben added to somehow deliver the news more easily to Bill and Richie.

"Why would she not?! We aren't the only ones who got bullied!"

"But they went easier on her, didn't you notice? The bullying was always less when she was with us—it even got less without her being around us.

Henry was nearly always the one to take on her, which was probably to keep her from any serious harm or just have her by his side;

Patrick never really hurt her for weeks, he only threatened to do so or let her get away just in time;

Criss and Belch didn't even get to touch her! We were just being oblivious to the fact that there was some sort of connection between the three of them.", Beverly stated, proud of her observation.

"So, what you're trying to say... is that [Y/n] had something going on with Bowers for apparently six weeks, in which he even stayed loyal?", Stanley asked.

"And now they cut things off, so Hockstetter is trying his luck?!", Richie groaned in complete disbelief and disgust.

He was disgusted by the fact that you had probably kissed Bowers... Eewww.

"[Y-Y/n] wouldn't have do-du-done that.", Bill whispered under his breath. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.

There was no chance, that you had forgiven the two boys who had put you and them through hell just to be with that mullet-wearing, knife-loving asshole!

"It makes sense.", Ben threw in, earning a glare from your old best friend and your younger brother.

"Calm down. It's not like she became a bad person. And the bullying got less, she must've talked to Henry about it...", the red-haired girl smiled.

She was desperately trying to cheer Bill up.

"Yeah, but now they broke up! How do you think that freaky maniac is going to handle this?!", Richie asked.