chapter twelve

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July 2nd, 1992

"What kind of frosting does Mike like?"

"Shit, I don't know, funfetti?"

"He doesn't seem like a funfetti guy."

"You asked!"

Inside Derry's local supermarket stood the two teenagers; Jaime Criss and Eddie Kaspbrak. Their arms were already packed full of the ingredients for a cake ("We will NOT be making Mike a shitty pre-packaged cake for his sixteenth birthday," Jaime had told the other four). The whole idea had been Jaime's anyway; none of the other losers even remembered it was almost Mike's birthday. But not only would it be his birthday, the month of July would also mark the month Jaime was to leave Derry for New York. By the end of this month, she'd be in an entirely new bed under her mother's roof.

"Well, it's not like we could ask him these things without giving away our intentions. He's smarter than all of us combined, you know." Jaime reminds Eddie, whom regards her with rolled eyes. As time passed, the two got along worse and worse. Richie was the only bond keeping them friends, and Jaime didn't like that, but Eddie peeved her more often than not. However, he had been the most on board with giving Mike a good birthday, plus he actually had some baking skill, so he joined Jaime on her quest to the store. Stan was occupying Mike around town, making sure the boy didn't have plans the next day so he could properly be surprised by his former best friends.

"I think everyone likes funfetti." Eddie says. "Unless you're not... fun."

The weak pun falls on deaf ears, Jaime having been far too used to that sort of thing from her boyfriend. "Alright. Yellow cake with funfetti frosting. Absolutely no peanuts involved, because he's allergic--"

"And I am too."

"And you are too," she sighs in exasperation, arms aching under the bags of flour and sugar, "anyway, should we make our own frosting, like we are with the cake?"

"Hell no." Eddie shakes his head. "I agreed to help with the cake. That's it. You want homemade frosting, you're making it yourself."

Jaime uses her free hand to grab a can of funfetti frosting, rolling her eyes. Eddie couldn't even pretend like he enjoyed her presence nowadays, which... at least he wasn't faking it.

The two rush over to the checkout and dump their items on the conveyor belt. Jaime hands the bored cashier a twenty, receives the change, then follows a (now rather tall) Eddie to Victor's car that she had so gracefully borrowed... without asking.

At her house, they bustle around the kitchen, spilling ingredients across the counters and floor. It goes by blissfully unnoticed, though. Eventually, the front door opens and Stan walks in, looking more tired than usual.

"He's free tomorrow... uh, guys? How much of the cake ended up in the oven, and not on your clothes?" He asks upon entering the kitchen. Jaime, smearing frosting on the first layer of the cake, shrugs.

"Enough. Second cake's in the oven." She jerks her head back towards Eddie, who peers into the oven window cautiously at the slowly rising cake.

"Is there anything I can do to... oh screw it, count me out, I've done enough today." Stan waves his hand dismissively. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Thank you for staying with Mike all day!" Jaime calls as Stan leaves her house. "Now, where were we?"

The next day, Jaime once again uses Victor's car to pick up the four others. She starts with Richie, who is assigned with the task of holding the container of cake in the passenger seat. He plays The Smiths on the car stereo, which Stan begs him to turn off the moment he slides into the backseat. Eddie and Ben come next, jamming awkwardly together in the backseat, their hips bumping together with each rocky bump on the neglected Derry roads. Jaime glances at the four boys, smiling sadly. If only Bill and Beverly were still here.

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