THE GHOST IN YOU - IT [2]

chapter five

July 4th, 1990

The air conditioner in the Criss household had met its match.

This had happened once before, back when Jaime was in second grade. Their parents dropped Jaime and Victor off at their respective friends houses (Jaime at Bill's, Victor at some kid he'd end up dropping a few years later for the Bowers gang). At Bill's, Jaime didn't have to fret about the oppressive, scolding heat. She entertained a very tiny Georgie by sticking her tongue out, crossing her eyes, and pushing her ears forward. This elicited endless giggles from the baby boy, so she continued doing it until Bill begged her to come help him construct his Lego mansion. Mrs. Denbrough supplied the two with limitless popsicles and potato chips. It had been nice, the way the Denbrough household actually felt warm and full of love, as opposed to her home, where her parents argued every night after bed.

Now, she wasn't so lucky. Eventually, the hot air seeping in through the cracks of the house outweighed the remaining cold air. Victor was sitting on the kitchen counter, shirtless, chewing on ice cubes. Jaime was sprawled across the top of the dining table, fanning herself, wearing shorts that would make Richie pass out. She was actively avoiding the thought of her boisterous boyfriend, however, due to a petty fight the two had engaged in just the day prior.

"I took a look at it," Victor repeats to no one in particular for the millionth time, "the band had snapped. It was broken."

"I have no clue what that's supposed to mean. So the AC is broken because a band snapped?" She asks, lolling her head over towards her brother's direction.

He shrugs. "I mean, I guess. I asked Dad if there was anything I could do to it, but he said no."

"As if he trusts you getting your grubby paws all over our AC."

Victor takes an ice cube from his plastic cup and throws it at her. She catches it and puts it on her sweating forehead, shooting him the middle finger as she does. "Anyway, I just think it's bullshit we have to wait until tomorrow for some guy to fix it. Why does everything have to fucking close down today, just because we stole some land hundreds of years ago?"

"How unpatriotic of you to say." She replies blandly, eyes scanning the popcorn ceiling, looking for shapes in the pattern.

Victor huffs childishly. "You're no fun when Tozier gets your panties all twisted. Just kick his ass and make up already."

"Ever since he gained a foot overnight, I don't think I've been capable of overcoming him." Jaime swings her legs over the side of the table and sits up properly. The melted ice on her forehead drips into the denim of her shorts. She moves the barely there ice cube to the nape of her sweaty neck.

"Have some faith in yourself, sis." He grins cheekily at her when she scowls playfully at him. In reality, the heat, along with the cramping in her uterus, and the disaster of a day yesterday had been, were getting to her. Jaime loved her big brother, but she longed to be alone in her room, to sulk in solitude. He'd never allow that, though. He'd pound down the door bearing fast food and his Gameboy. Or, they'd simply sit together, listening to music and occasionally making a joke. When Victor's friends were over, though, Jaime didn't want to intrude. He actually had nice friends for once, ones that weren't so insecure that they felt the need to prove their masculinity by picking on younger kids. Ones that thought Jaime was cool, ones that Jaime thought were cool herself. So she stayed in her lane, not desiring to push her luck with them.

When there's a knock at the door, Jaime watches Victor lean forward to look out the kitchen window. "Damn. I was hoping it was the AC guys. I think it's one of your friends, I don't see a car."