The Sea and the Sun ━━━━ Beverly Marsh︱✓

𝙞𝙞. the five stages of grief

Beverly peddled faster, letting out a devious burst of laughter when she passed Jill. She skidded to a halt in front of the building before her. They had this thing (they had a lot of things) where they'd race each other home and the loser would have to buy the other a milkshake of their choice. It might have been childish, but in a boring town like Derry, it was a necessity to be young and dumb if they were ever going to survive the summer.

"I win," Beverly teased, sticking out her tongue as she excitedly jumped up and down. "Now you owe me a milkshake."

Jill hopped off her bike and threw it to the ground. "Bullshit! You didn't say go, therefore, I win," she corrected, pointing to her chest as she screwed her lips into a thin line. Really, she was just trying to keep herself from bursting into a fit of laughter because there was her best friend, Beverly Marsh, jumping up and down because she won a silly race. Jill adored it.

Beverly stopped jumping and put her hands on her hips. "I said go. Your old ears must not have picked it up," she said with a smirk and shrugged one of her shoulders.

Jill's jaw dropped and she scoffed. "Hey, now, I'm younger than you."

"Not in my eyes, grandma," the redhead teased, covering her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

Jill raised a brow. "I'd bite your tongue, peaches," she said, looking the girl up and down.

"Oh, yeah?" Beverly prompted, stepping closer to the mess of gangly limbs. "Or what?"

The brunette could have sworn her heart jumped out of her chest right then as Beverly stepped closer to her, stopping when they were merely a few inches apart. She could see the flecks of green in those blue eyes she'd discovered were unlike any other color she'd ever seen before. The smell of the ginger's strawberry-scented shampoo encircled them. She even smelled like an angel, Jill thought, but then quickly shook her head. She couldn't be thinking about her best friend like that; it hurt too much to even dwell on the idea.

"Well . . . " Jill trailed off, trying to come up with a response, but she couldn't think straight with the redhead standing so close to her. Especially when Beverly's mouth was perked into a small half-smirk and all she could think about doing was smashing her lips onto them.

"Just admit it," Beverly said, snapping the brunette out of her trance.

Jill's eyes flickered to Bev's face. Her heart dropped a second later. Had Beverly seen her staring at her lips and realized after all these years Jill Samson was a total cliche and was totally, embarrassingly head over fucking heels for her best friend?

Jill cleared her throat. "Admit what?" she asked, trying to play dumb but even she wasn't buying it. And Jill was even a good liar—the best maybe, but around Beverly . . . she turned into a mess.

Beverly furrowed her brows and laughed. "Don't you remember? After we talked to the new kid, Ben, I said if I beat you home, you'd finally admit Pretty in Pink is a way better movie than Friday the Thirteenth," she explained, and Jill nearly fist-pumped the air. She was safe for now. Her best friend didn't know she was a fool for her . . . yet.

"Funny," Jill tapped her chin in thought, "I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Admit it and I'll buy you all the milkshakes in the world!"

"In the world? Damn, Marsh, I had no idea you were a millionaire," Jill teased.

Bev playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh shut it," she groaned, lightly slapping the brunette on the arm.

The Samson girl chuckled, turning on her heels and making her way to the fire escape steps. "Molly Ringwald is totally bitchin' but Jason Voorhees outweighs any babe," Jill called back, already halfway up the staircase when Beverly finally decided to catch up.