GHOST - IT [1]

FIFTEEN.

The next day, Jaime had no plans with her friends. She was bored, but she wasn't alone. Victor was there, sitting next to her on the couch as Night of the Living Dead played on their television. It was Jaime's favorite movie of all time, which is why Victor suggested it. She was so scared of so many things outside of fake movie monsters that this movie no longer kept her up at night. The shrill screams Barbara made as she ran from the undead were not terrifying like they once were.

"Your turn." Victor said suddenly. Jaime looked at him in confusion before realizing they had been in the middle of a checkers game. The board sat between the two on the couch.

"Right." She slid her red piece over a square. Victor took that opportunity to jump his piece over hers, ultimately leading in him gaining yet another point.

"Are you okay? You totally set yourself up for that one." He pointed out, despite smiling slightly at his victory.

She tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. How does your face feel?" She asked as she slid her next piece to a more rational square.

"Sore as all hell." He said.

"Henry feels worse." She said. He laughed.

"Damn right." Victor slid his checker in front of one of Jaime's, then realized his mistake.

"Shit! Let me take that back-" He attempted to slide the piece back, but she put her finger over it.

"No, Vic, no take backs." She teased.

"Oh shit, please let me redo that-"

"No! You're going to lose whether you like it or not!" She jumped her piece over his and then put the piece on her side of the couch.

"Noooo!" He called out, throwing his head back and flailing his arms dramatically. She giggled at his reaction.

"Alright, well, now there's a chance you can get me back-" She was cut off by a knock on the front door echoing through the house. Furrowing her brows, she looked to her older brother. He shrugged nonchalantly as he studied the board game. Jaime stood and walked over to the door, unlocking it and opening it. On the other side stood none other than Richie Tozier himself, his eyes appearing ten times wider than usual. Jaime leaned against the open door and looked at him in confusion.

"What's going on?" She asked carefully, like there was something she was supposed to be attending but had forgotten.

"Nothing. I just wanted to..." He glanced around nervously. "I need to talk to you. On the way to Bill's, though. He called."

"About what?"

Richie stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I don't know, some slideshow shit he wants to show us. I offered to g- um, he asked me to come get you." He explained. Jaime nodded.

"Hold on." She left the door open and walked back over to Victor in the living room. He stared at her solemnly.

"Just go. It's summer, we have plenty of time to hang out." He forced a small smile. Jaime, despite feeling immensely guilty, nodded once before leaving her home with Richie. They both straddled their bikes and zoomed into the street.

"So, what's up?" Richie asked after a moment of silence. Jaime sighed. Of course, he would want to avoid the subject at all costs.

"I know that you told my dad about the incident." She ignored him as he desperately attempted to make eye contact with her. "Victor beat the shit clean out of Bowers."

"What the fuck? You're joking." Richie insisted, disbelief etched onto his shocked expression.

"No, I'm not. My brother absolutely annihilated Bowers. My dad threw a fit, and it was a mess."