Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
..
Six was the first into her social studies class, her head down on her desk as she stared to her right out the window, watching the trees move in the slight wind.
She knew she'd have to be in the same vicinity of Richie Tozier and Stan Uris for an hour, and it almost made her sick to her stomach. Normally she ignored what everyone thought about her, besides the whispers she heard every now and again, and Greta's group of idiots, but for some reason she couldn't ignore this.
She felt embarrassed, mainly just for knowing what they thought about her, things that were useless to fight against. No one ever believed her anyway.
She heard the thump of books on the desk next to her, and then on the one in front of her, looking ahead to see the glasses clad boy himself, staring at her. She glanced over at Stan, who sat in his normal seat beside her, looking almost sympathetically at her.
"Can I help you?" she feigned exasperation, panning her eyes back to Richie.
"Is everything people say about you true?" he blurted out, leaning his chin onto his hand, "Or was I just a dick yesterday for no reason?"
Six just looked at him for a minute, trying to search his face for any sign of mockery or sarcasm before saying, "If I answer, are you going to believe me or just keep assuming things about people you've never even talked to before"
She heard Stan sputter out a laugh before he quieted himself, covering it with a cough.
Richie looked partly guilty, and partly amused by her sarcasm, "Believe you"
"I've never done drugs, Tozier," she sighed, lifting her head up off her arms, "My mom does them, everyone knows that. But i'm nothing like her"
"Okay," he nodded, his tone taking on more of an interested one than a questioning one, "Ever drank?"
"No," she sighed, rolling her brown eyes, "Are you done now?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, "You got any to ask, Stanley?"
"No, Richie," the curly haired boy deadpanned, busy opening his text book to the right page, "No I don't"
Richie just shrugged, smiling at Six before he made his way to his desk across the room. The teacher had separated him and Stan on the second day of class, because all Richie would do was talk to his friend, very loudly, all hour.
"I'm sorry about him," Stan said, finally looking away from his book and over to the girl next to him, "He doesn't have boundaries"
"I've noticed," she laughed, "At least he's funny, he's got one thing going for him"
