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"we were ridin' down dyer with my top down, singin' our favorite songs"
JUNE 26, 1989. 11:00 AM. DERRY, MAINE. ____________________________ della's pov:
i never went to meet stanley at the cliffs. and he didn't come to look for me. he rode by my house a few times, but never stopped. i sat in my room for the next two days, decaying and all. the wounds were gone but my heart still felt like it was pouring a waterfall of blood as the losers jumped into their own quarry. what hurt more is when stan didn't stop riding, i could see ritchie's face turn up into a low grimace as he peddled.
i had known it was my fault, i hadn't even bothered to call him, and i could try to use the excuse of my temporary muteness, but i couldn't find anything to justify standing up the sweet boy. my heart pulled and jumped back up in one exhausted motion and suddenly everything hurt inside once again. weirdly, i was completely fine physically. momma inspected everything and said i was probbaly hallucinating. and maybe i was a little lovesick, but nothing that would make me conjure up a scary clown. but my insides felt like they were digging out of my own body, clawing to leave and begging to be let go. caged inside, my heart tried to jump out of my body, but disguised it as beating. oxygen scurried our fast, but somehow was my breathing.
two days passed and i stayed in bed, reading and writing, occasionally listening to new kids on the block, but that was only enough to tune out my crying, not the memories. my joints were achy and stretching was a new hobby. eventually, mom said i had to leave or id be grounded for longer.
"ella della, this isn't like you. get up now! or you'll spend the rest of summer in here." mom spoke fast, rushing to pull my covers off and leave me in a hissing, vampire impressing as the sun hit.
"my eyes! my eyes!" i groaned. "leave me alone to die." she rolled her eyes at that comment, but puffed until i threw my hands up in defeat.
"fine! but i want a ride downtown, to the temple." imagine me, a "raised christian" girl (which wasn't even totally true, my grandma forced my mom to go to church growing up and it just stuck. i didn't know anything about anything.) asking her mother to go to a synagogue.
momma's eyebrows squished in confusion and her head fell sideways.
"since when are you jewish?" she sorta smirked, and i think she just understood. she had that effect on people. ______________________________ stanley's pov:
"im saying, stan, just forget about her! im trying to play street fighter and your sadness is screwing me up." rich yelled, as he turned quickly back to the arcade game and threw a fist in the air as he won. i rolled my eyes and put my head in the palm of my hands. richie had one brain cell and all it knew how to do was get on my last nerve.
"says the one who's never even talked to a girl!" i scoffed. bill looked at me questionably.
richie silently laughed and retorted, "not true, ive fucked your mom enough times and she loves dirty talk."
i threw my head back and groaned. rich and ed began to fight and i silently tuned it out, cheering for whatever eddie was saying inside my head. part of me felt stupid to expect della showing up. a beautiful girl, way too good for me with the most popular friends in school. why would she hang out with me? gretta was more interesting and i found myself dragging my shoes as i walked to temple.
the sky was a light shade of blue, baby colored with little clouds that reminded me of white flowers. one passed by, and i could swear it looked like della, the next one resembles a clown. derry's main existence was to make me feel miserable and in wake of my mini heartbreak, the sky didn't look as pretty as I was told it was. everything felt suffocating. felt even more closed in as i reached the handle of temple. being the rabbi's son came with an unquestionable devotion to judaism. i just wanted to be devoted to della.
_____________________________ della's pov:
momma dropped me off and i ran up the stairs, almost missing a step as i rushed excitedly up. pulling open the doors, the temple as empty. it was a monday morning (authors note I literally looked up the exact day of june 26, 1989.. dedication.) and even the Holy Ghost seemed to skip out on the stained glass windows and bench seating that slightly creaked as the temple settled. it seemed so stan. he walked in soon later, shocked as i stood in the middle of his place of worship in my white dress and ruined black converse. i had tried to match the vibe, and something about dirty purity matched it.
he sat his book down. "oh, hi." he muttered, eyes down. i wanted to see those pretty, hazel eyes more than anything. i stepped closer. "hi." i smiled softly, my words even gentler. afraid he would leave, i kept my hands to myself, resisting the need to rest my hand upon his. he glanced up, then went back down and missed my falling frown. he looked stress. and i hated myself as i swore it was because of me.
we stood silently.
"im sorry." i said. his head rose and he made direct eye contact. brown eyes just like warm honey, dripping softly as his pupils dilated and a hint of red appeared. derry had much sun, but i liked to believe i made him blush.
i continued. "-for missing the quarry. im sorry i didn't come." stanley's hands went into fists.
"if you don't want to hang out with me, just say so." my face dropped. it hasn't been that big of a deal, was it?
"i do want to hang out with you, stanley uris. something came up." he rolled his eyes and grabbed the book but not before i saw his fingernail indents from pressing so hard into his palm.
"what? gretta." he answered rudely. i was confused. stan didn't stop walking and i found it difficult to keep up with him. someone i had hardly talked to was leaving too fast, as fast as i had started to like him.
"no," i answered low. "something scary." stan stopped, and turned around. his hard look replaced by a less harsh one, and i thought in my head how much better he looks without his worry lines.
"im sorry," he replied. "just wanted you to come." i smiled. "i wanted to, too." that famous blush came back up. we stood in place for a few seconds. stanley eventually suggested we go to the library, and i agreed.
later that night, stanley would meet his clown, but it was the lady from the painting.
i hate this chapter so bad im just trying to get rid of filler.
