when we were young ➳ stenbrough

2 - The Separation

Bill didn't talk to him after that, and Stanley felt very cold without him. The silence lasted weeks, and he missed his best friend. He would try to talk to him occasionally, but Bill would brush him off. They were always questions with simple answers, like, "could I borrow a pencil," or  "what's the date today?" No matter what, they were always from Stan and never from Bill. He wasn't even the only one who noticed Bill was avoiding him. The other losers noticed, too. 

It started with Eddie. A simple something, just a quiet whisper in his ear. It was almost inaudible, which was something Eddie was good at when he wanted to be. He was stealthy. Nearly silent, even. They had been at lunch, and everyone was engaged in a collective conversation, aside from Stan and Bill. Stan was giving soft smiles every now and then when he found one of their jokes amusing, but staring down at his lunch tray. Though, there seemed to be no effort from Bill at all. In fact, he didn't even show in the cafeteria some days. 

"Hey, what happened to you and Stanley?" Bill felt Eddie's warm hand cup around his ear, and then pull away when he finished speaking. He shrugged, as if it were an acceptable reply. Nothing, really. They just stopped hanging out all of a sudden. Eddie brushed it off. 

The next to notice was Beverly. She yanked Bill aside during gym without Mr. Bemire noticing and shoved him into the boys locker room, following behind without checking to see if there were any male students inside.

"What has gotten into you Bill? Has your big ego gone to your head?" Bill was confused. Big ego? What was Beverly talking about? 

"Bev, you're in the boys locker room, you need to—"

"No, you listen to me, Denbrough. I watched Stanley cry for 3 nights in a row because of you!" She spat at him fiercely, "He wants his best friend back, he doesn't care that you kissed him—" Bill holds out his hands, stopping her in her tracks. He now has some idea of what she's talking about, but he also knows she's had it all wrong. 

"Hold on a second, you think I kissed Stan?" He pauses to laugh a little, his way of showing her she's wrong, right before actually telling her. "No, he kissed me." He waves his arms around with his index finger extended as he speaks, allowing himself a little exaggeration. Beverly furrows her eyebrows in unintended response, and for a second, just a second, Bill thinks it'll all blow over. That the losers may know, but it's just a misunderstanding.

 It only took him one more second to realize he was wrong. 

"You are so dense," The red headed female cries out, covering her face with her hands. Bill notices the aquamarine nail polish chipping on her right thumb. Beverly shakes her head, releasing her grip on her hairline and growling in frustration. 

"You're an absolute idiot. Figure it out, seriously." She then stormed out of the locker room, leaving Bill to sit with his thoughts. 

Two days later, it was Richie. The spunky kid rode his bike all the way across town to get to Bill's house on that Saturday, and knocked on the red, wooden door only for it to be opened by a crying William Denbrough. Richie pushed past him without speaking, ran into the kitchen to get a cola, then followed the miserable boy up to his room where they on his bed in silence for almost 2 hours. It's something Richie was used to, something they'd always done. Each year, Richie would come over to Bill's house early every morning on the first week of March. Bill would let him in and they would sit on his bed, sometimes in front of the living room couch if Mrs. Denbrough would let them, in pure, uninterrupted silence. Richie's birthday was on the first week of March, and he couldn't stand to be at home where nobody would even remember his middle name. Bill understood that.

Bill let his head rest on Richie's shoulder as he sobbed. Though his shirt sleeve was getting wet, Richie allowed it. The crying died down soon enough, and Richie hugged Bill. Not briefly, but for almost five minutes. Then, he wiped Bill's tears gently, very unlike the normal Richie. No, this Richie was different. The side of Richie that only Bill ever saw. Normally, when he came to his house late at night with cuts and bruises, allowing Bill to stitch him up. Bill supposed that this time it was his very own vulnerable state that allowed Richie to be this way again, even if just for a moment.

"Richie, I made a mistake. A big one. I'm such a bad, bad person," Bill sniffed, looking down at his lap. Richie pulled his face up to meet his, allowing a small smile to slip from his lips. 

"Stan told me about this, Bill, and trust me when I say this; you're not a bad person." Richie took a deep breath, and smacked Bill's shoulders. 

"Now, listen her Billy boy, you like Stanley, right?" Bill nodded.

"Then you gotta get off your skinny ass and go get him!" Richie pushed Bill off the bed by his shoulders, grinning. 

And so Richie had made Bill's decision for him.

New Authors Note (3/21/19): Back in business with some editing! Don't worry, you can reread now. I promise it actually sounds good this time. :)

Old Authors Note:  Heyo! Sorry it took so long for me to get this finished,.. It was meant to be published a few days ago, but I wrote it and forgot to hit publish! Furthermore, I'd like to apologize for the excessive amount of commas in the second half of this chapter,, as my period key doesn't work very well, so I must improvise,, anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it!