XX • - STENBROUGH

thirty-five

stan has never fought a day in his life. he despises confrontation, lets the bullies of like school like henry bowers walk all over him.

but bill is wearing a soft blue sweater and his hair looks soft and his eyes look sad. henry is standing there with one arm propped on the side of the wall, closing bill in against the sink and crowding his space.

stan makes eye contact with bill and he thinks he would gladly go to war for him. so, he does.

"bowers," he says slowly, biting the word out like it's a disease, "i didn't know harassing people in the bathrooms during lunch was one of your hobbies."

bowers backs away from bill and turns towards stan. the much older and taller teenager looks him over and raises an eyebrow, "and what exactly are you doing in the bathroom, uris?"

"taking a shit, what does it look like?" stan deadpans.

henry scowls and starts to advance on him but stan stops him in his tracks, "i wouldn't do that if i were you. unless you want the school to know about what beverly saw in the junkyard between you and patrick."

henry's eyes widen in fear for a split second before turning dark. he grumbles and pushes past stan aggressively, leaving the bathroom.

stan is shaking. bill is shaking. they're alone.