𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 〣 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

i.

a/n: if you find any mistakes, please comment so i can fix them!

Stanley Uris leaned up against the cool metal of the high school's blue lockers. He twirled his car keys in one hand, an act that had become a nervous habit of his when he was alone. He was pretty sure he had ADHD, however, a doctor had never diagnosed him. 

Students of Derry High milled about the hallways, some having private conversations, some laughing obnoxiously, some sprinting to get to fifth period. Stanley's fifth period happened to be lunch, and he had no reason to rush to the overly crowded cafeteria. Besides, he was waiting for someone . . .

"Stan the Man!" Richie Tozier appeared beside the taller boy, scaring the crap out of him. Stanley jumped, his hand flying to his heart in an attempt to keep it from springing out of his chest and running away in fear. This was not the person he'd been waiting for.

"Trashmouth!" Stan tried to say with Richie's enthusiasm, his heart still racing. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for you! Denbrough said he was going to be late for lunch, and to just go on without him."

Stan felt a sad pang in his heart, hearing that Bill wasn't coming. The two had met everyday for the past three years or so before lunch and walked together. For Stan, those few minutes talking with Bill, and only Bill, were the highlight of his day.

"Oh, okay," Stan said, trying not to sound too disappointed. "Let's go, then."

The two boys walked idly down the hallway in comfortable silence. They turned the corner and entered the cafeteria, which was already crowded with students. Stan spotted Beverly Marsh sitting at their usual table by the windows, Ben Hanscom and Eddie Kaspbrak sitting across from her.

"Wassup fuckers?" Richie said, sliding into the chair next to Eddie. "Wassup Eddie-Bear?"

"The sky," Eddie answered smartly.

Stan took the seat to Bev's left, trying to block out the bickering of his friends. He pulled a brown paper bag—his lunch—out of his backpack. Though he wasn't hungry, he unpacked his lunch anyway in hopes that Bill would suddenly arrive.

Since neither Stan nor Bill found waiting in the long-ass lunch line any fun, they packed their own lunches and often traded or shared. In some way, it brought the two boys closer.

"So," Bev said, drawing in everyone's attention. "Mike called me this morning before school. He said he wants to host a bonfire at the farm this weekend, and that your all invited."

"Right because it's a great idea to start a fire and then invite Richie," Eddie joked, reminding everyone at the table of the bonfire they'd thrown when they were thirteen. Long story short, Richie might have been a little high, and his wild dancing had almost landed him in the flames. Luckily, Mike pulled him out of the way, and they called it a night before anyone else got hurt.

Richie poked Eddie's side playfully, "That was three years ago, Eds! I promise I won't get high this time!"

"Don't call me Eds," Eddie replied habitually. "And that's exactly what you said at the last bonfire!"

The group of friends cracked up into laughter, even Stan who was still a little disappointed about not being able to walk to lunch with Bill. As they laughed and continued to joke around with each other, Stan looked at each of their bright, happy faces and remembered something.

It wasn't always like this. It wasn't always happy, go-lucky smiles and laughter. Five years ago, when Stanley first moved to Derry, it had been nothing short of hell for him.

He was the new kid, and he quickly learned that the people here didn't treat new kids well. People like Henry Bowers and Greta Bowie bullied new kids. Others just watched them try to get by and never did anything to help them out. Oh, did twelve-year-old Stanley Uris need help.

When he moved to Derry, he was just getting to the age where he could think for himself a little bit more. He began to think about how he'd never shown an interest in girls. Not a romantic interest, anyway. However, he didn't label himself as gay because he didn't know if he was interested in boys either. He'd never dated one, never kissed one, so how could he know?

He couldn't. So, he decided that would be a problem for another day and somewhat moved on. Although, he must have looked gay or something, because that's why people bullied him. That, and the fact that he was Jewish.

His home situation wasn't great, either. His father was always working, and his mother was a crazy religious person, making sure he kept up on his Torah reading. At this point in his life, he'd started to get fed up with his mother, and that just made her crazier. He had no siblings, no one to take on the craziness with. He was lonely.

His loneliness, overbearing mother, and the bullying caused him to develop extreme Anxiety, and only worsened his previously existing OCD. For the first few weeks of his new life, Stanley was a mess.

But somehow, it all changed. It changed because of one, single boy. And this boy rode a bike that was too big for him, and had a stutter that Stanley found adorable instead of annoying. This boy had turned Stanley's life around.

Two weeks after Stanley moved to Derry, a brown-haired boy approached him heistantly. His blue-green eyes were nervous, but calm at the same time. He sat down in the empty seat next to Stanley's, took a deep breath, and said, "Hi, I'm B-B-Bill Denbrough. I've s-seen yuh-hoo around b-be-fore. Do you w-w-want to be f-f-friends?"

Though it sounded like a statement a six-year-old might make, Stanley's heart soared at the thought of having a friend.

"Sure," He said. "My name is Stanley Uris."

And that was how Stanley met who he considered to be his best friend. Now, here they were five years later, still practically attached at the hip. Though they had other friends—the Losers Club—Stan and Bill had always been closer with each other. More comfortable even.

Not being able to see the blue-eyed boy now made Stanley's heart wrench. He missed him, even though he saw him this morning on their way to first period.

"STANLEY?! HAVE YE DON GONE DEAF?!" Richie shouted in a terrible western voice, clapping his hands in front of Stan's face and breaking his train of thought.

Stan jumped slightly. He shook his head, his curls bouncing and reminding everyone of ramen, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Are you coming to the bonfire or not?" Bev asked, poking to Jewish boy's cheek with a well-manicured fingernail.

"Huh? Oh, yeah I will," He said quietly.

Unless Bill doesn't want to go. I might stay back and hang out with him instead if that's the case, He thought.

His friends cheered and he knew the rest of them had already agreed to go. The bell rang, signaling the end of fifth period and the five-minute time block to get to sixth. Stanley packed up his uneaten lunch and exited the cafeteria without saying goodbye to the Losers Club.

He was hoping to catch Bill before sixth period to at least say hi and maybe have a short conversation before heading to AP Chem. He milled about the hallways, but Bill was nowhere to be seen. Finally, he gave up and walked into his Chemistry class, only to be surprised with a pop quiz.

Stanley stared blankly at the quiz paper, lost in thought about where his friend might be. He sighed angrily and picked up his pencil. Maybe he's just making up a test or something.

That thought seemed to satisfy Stan's conscience, and he set to work on the quiz.

Although Stan's thought was calming and satisfying, it couldn't have been more wrong. His best friend wasn't making up a test. Bill Denbrough was in a fuck-ton of trouble.

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( published O5, November 2O18 ! )

( edited ! )