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

𝙞𝙭. f*** the world, you stupid girl

Jill traced the wrinkles in her bedsheets and let out a sigh. The sun shone on her hand, illuminating the scabbed skin. The skin around her knuckles was bruised, fading from a plum tint to a yellowish-green. Where the skin had split, it had scabbed over and slowly begun to heal as the time passed. It was a confusing feeling she felt while looking at her hand. She had only ever punched one person before that day by the river, and only then it hadn't left that much of a mark. But this was different. She had tried to prove a point, and prove it she did. Her hand was evidence of her point, but it reminded her of the bond she had forged with the group of Losers which led her to the realization she had to get out of bed or they'd all be bombarding her landline with voicemails.

She let out a curse, and shoved the covers off her body, standing to her feet. Her gaze briefly glanced at her nightstand where she found a note from her father explaining how he had gone to work and couldn't be there in the morning, but he had left breakfast in the fridge. Jill rolled her eyes. Of course, he was at work. He always was. Where exactly he was working now since the school's had closed was unbeknownst to her. Maybe he was teaching summer school. Whatever. She didn't care.

She quickly dressed in a yellow tank top and cutoff denim shorts paired with a striped belt to keep the shorts from falling off her waist. She took one look in the mirror and decided her hair looked awful. Not that she'd admit it, but she did somewhat care what she looked like. So, she combed back her unruly hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. A few stray hairs escaped from the scrunchie, but Jill curled them behind her ears. She shrugged at her appearance and went to eat breakfast. Her father had made her pancakes with a whipped cream smile. Jill mangled the smile and scarfed down the pancake. It was cold and soggy, but it didn't bother her. Then she shoved on a pair of old sneakers and walked out the door.

When she exited her apartment, she caught sight of Beverly who was smoking a cigarette as she waited for Jill. Jill plodded down the stairs and sighed when she approached the ginger. "Hey," she muttered, her voice void of emotion.

Beverly turned to look at the brunette. "Hey," she said, searching the girl's face. She put out her cigarette and began walking down the rest of the stairs with Jill following beside her. She knew the fourth was a hard day for Jill which was one of the main reasons she told her they didn't have to go to the parade with the rest of the group. But Jill insisted she would be up to going as long as the boys wouldn't do anything particularly annoying. "So are you going to be okay today?"

Jill thought about the question for a second, keeping her eyes glued to her shoes. No, I'm not okay. "Oh, yeah, totally," she said instead, before she could even stop the words from tumbling off her tongue. Lying was getting easier. Way, way easier.

Beverly took one look at Jill and knew she was lying. "It's okay if you're not," she said, brushing her arm with Jill's. "We can even stay at home and do our own thing if you want."

"Beverly, I solemnly swear that I'm okay," Jill said with a breathy laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides—" she shrugged— "I don't even really remember her . . . that much." She almost cringed at her lie. It was a load of shit, but she didn't care. She just wanted to forget about that day and maybe distracting herself with a parade would do it.

Beverly puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. "Okay, but if you wanna' head out at any point just holler at me," she urged with a pleasant smile pressed against her lips.

Jill snorted. "Holler?"

The Marsh girl's brows shot up on her face and a slight rose tint formed on her cheeks. "Sorry, Bill says that sometimes," she admitted, sheepishly curling her hair behind her ear. "It's funny, I guess I picked it up."