"Do y'think i'm a loner because i think it looks mysterious? I'm a loner because i fucking hate everybody in this god forsaken town,"
Bea Tremaine was a loner, plain and simple. Sure, she chatted to Stanley Uris and smoked weed with Beverly Marsh bu...
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JUNE 2017
This place was fucking bullshit.
All she wanted to do was spread her wings and get the fuck out of here asap. Mrs Douglas had already taken her phone off her after she caught Bea refreshing her follower count on her secret Instagram for the hundredth time. Everybody knew Bea Tremaine was the phone junkie, the weird loner that barely talked to anybody and had zero friends. Well, apart from the Marsh girl, they'd been seen together a few times and in chemistry where she'd quiet gab away to Stan Uris aaaaand when she'd been spotted with Mike Hanlon - but that was besides the point.
Wether or not she had friends, Bea was infamous for getting amazing grades. The reason? Her mom. Since the death of her dad, you'd think the woman would go easy on her right? Wrong.
It only made her push harder. Until she couldn't breathe and finally snapped. Bea turned to the false warm shoulder that was drugs and alcohol. She didn't do anything super intense, just the occasional blunt, but it still would've made her mother go on a killing spree if she found out. Luckily though Margot was ignorant and wouldn't pay attention to the fact her daughter was gone. Wine was the drug that subdued her and that was good enough for Bea.
Oh, and not not mention Bea fucking hated everybody.
Like literally everyone.
Nobody put in effort into everything and no way in hell was she gonna act dumb and unbothered just to attract the attention of some whiny popular kids. Especially Greta Keene.
Bea detested that cunt, she was the bane of her existence. Greta couldn't go on two minutes without mentioning how her dad had preordered the new iPhone for her or that she'd bought the newest makeup product online or how fucked up she'd gotten at the last party. She would not hesitate to drag her through the school by the strands of her curly, bleached hair. Bea didn't know why Greta bragged so much, her dad was literally rumoured to be a pedophile.
The ringing of the bell was like a holy symbol to her as she rushed to collect her phone but Mrs Douglas snatched it away and claimed she couldn't get it back until the end of the day.
The space around her locker was empty as she casually traded books for each class. Bea found herself being nosey and focusing on the other people in the hallway.
She saw the new boy pass by. He was quiet and from what she could tell from when she stalked his instagram, he was a bit of a Derry buff. His name was Ben, he was larger than the others but Bea could tell from the few extremely brief interactions they'd shared he was different. Softer. More sympathetic, shy. He was the kid that didn't want to go to parties and act fake to a bunch of people he'd never see after the fleeting four years they'd be trapped within this prison. Somehow, she liked that.
