Frank's Diner was Jo's (probably) favorite place in Derry. She liked it because they always had a bunch of ice cream and burgers. She also liked it because it was very close to the edge of town; just an inch away from getting out of Derry. But she liked it the most because it was the place she and Beverly went together. It was their place if you will. Their best conversations, laughs, and gossip was held at Frank's Diner. One of the best parts, though, was the vendetta Jo had against Frank, the diner's owner. Beverly found that especially funny.
"You know what I think helps?" Bev asked. Jo put her hands on her hips.
"What?" she replied.
"Sleeping and ignoring the pain," she stated bluntly. Just seconds after, she started to fall backward. Before she could land on the bed, Jo grabbed her hands again and pulled her up. Beverly groaned.
"Come on, Bev. It'll be fun," Jo urged. Bev slumped her shoulders and glared at Jo. From the looks on her face, she would've seemed like she had already made her decision. That decision being no. But Jo knew better. Beverly was thinking about it.
"Fine. But you aren't allowed to complain if I complain," she decided. Jo softly smiled. She wouldn't complain. She knew the struggles of being a woman all too well, and she was gonna cut Bev some slack because of that.
"I won't," Jo agreed. So, the girl with auburn, fiery hair and the girl with brown, flowy hair made their way out of the apartment.
Dean was still watching Saved by the Bell as they walked out the door. And still, Zack (douchebag) Morris was ranting in the background. Jo made sure to close the door loudly behind her. She was aware that her brother would hate it, but she was also aware that it was a sign to turn the TV off.
"I like Zack Morris," Beverly claimed. They continued walking to the fire escape.
"Well, then you're delusional," Jo said. Bev scoffed.
"He's sweet," she hummed.
"He's also a fuck boy," Jo fought. The two girls walked down the fire escape side by side, careful to avoid hitting the kids that were coloring on the steps.
"Whatever you say," Bev replied as she grabbed her bike off of the ground.
"It's not my opinion. It's a fact," Jo stated. Because it was. Zack Morris went from girl to girl to girl. It was what defined his personality. "And I don't buy that bullshit movie where he and Kelly get married."
"I like them together," Bev said.
"I don't," Jo disagreed. "Hey, how much you wanna bet they got a divorce right after their honeymoon?"
"Nothing at all. I'm done talking about this, let's talk about something else," Bev decided. Jo snorted. The two girls were pedaling their bikes down the empty roads of Derry.
"Like what, Miss Marsh?" Jo asked in a British accent. Bev laughed. Jo loved Bev's laugh.
"I don't know. Something that's not about boys you hate," Beverly suggested. Jo scoffed.
"I don't hate that many boys," Jo counterclaimed. Bev laughed again.
"That's a funny joke," she teased. Jo rolled her eyes. At this point, they had passed all of the houses. Now they were in town, which wasn't any busier than the other roads.
"I like Ben. I like Eddie. I mostly like Richie. I like Stanley," Jo said, trying to prove her point.
"What about Bill? Do you like him?" Beverly asked. Truth be told, Jo didn't like him. But she didn't want to say that because that would've meant that Beverly won.
"Ugh...do I have to answer that?" she groaned.
"Yes, you do," Bev responded.
"Then no, I do not like Bill Denbrough," she admitted. Instead of the reaction Jo expected from Beverly, which was celebrating the fact that she won, Jo got a different one. Beverly's face was solemn and still.
"I like him just fine. Why don't you like him?" Bev asked.
"Don't get me wrong, I feel bad for him and all, but he just isn't my type of dude," Jo explained.
"But why?" Beverly asked. Jo thought about her question. Why did she hate Bill Denbrough? Was it because he was so perfectly perfect? Was it because he always acted in charge? Or was it because he seemed to pay a little bit too much attention to Beverly?
"I'll tell you later," she decided. Jo could tell Bev was slightly disappointed, but she didn't push Jo any further. She wasn't going to make her answer if she didn't want to. Besides, they had to save some conversation for the diner.
~~~
About five minutes later, they arrived at Frank's diner. The rest of the bike ride there was spent in tranquility. When they were quiet, which, by the way, was extremely rare, they were quiet. Most of the time both girls would talk their mouths off and run around in chaos, but sometimes they would sit next to each other silently. Almost in solitude, even though they were right next to each other. And it was never awkward.
Jo put her bike in the bike rack and Bev copied her actions, then they walked into the diner.
It was a fairly old diner—probably built in the '40s. Up at the very top of the diner, there was a dimly lit-up sign that said 'Frank's Diner'. But the oldness of the place was why Jo loved it so much.
And there, right when they walked in, was Frank. He was standing by the cash register, very clearly tired and annoyed that he had nothing to do. Just as he seemed to be dozing off, the tiny little bell at the top of the door rang, and he jerked up to look at his new customers.
Of course, right as his eyes landed on Jo, his face dropped, he rolled his eyes and then groaned. Jo snorted and tauntingly walked up to the register with Bev. She placed her elbow on the counter, then positioned her head so that it was in her palm. Then, she winked dramatically.
Beverly knew that at some point within this interaction, she was going to laugh, but she certainly didn't expect it to be during the first fifteen seconds of being in the store. She broke into a peal of loud laughter that caused half of the parlor to glance at her.
"Piss off, Jo," Frank mumbled, unamused by Jo's act. Jo lifted her head from her palm and crossed her arms.
"Now that is no way to treat your customers," she claimed. Sarcastically, Frank straightened his posture as his eyes were closed, cleared his throat, and then waited a few seconds. Beverly and Jo watched him with looks of confusion painted on their faces.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes again. But this time, a wide smile stretched across his face instead of the grim expression from before. He was obviously trying out Jo's suggestion to be nicer to his customers. In just mere seconds later, however, he dropped the smile and slouched again.
"I don't give a fuck," he stated. Jo rolled her eyes.
"And I don't need that language," she retorted. Frank blankly stared at her, almost as if he didn't think she should be talking with that mouth of hers.
"Whatever," he mumbled. "What do you want?"
"All of it," Jo smiled. She leaned in a little bit closer and flashed her white teeth at him.
"All of what?" Frank asked. Jo gestured to the bins of ice cream.
"Well, the ice cream, of course," she said. She said it as if it were the most believable, realistic thing in the world.
"Uh, no," Frank decided. Jo's mouth was agape.
"If I want all of the ice cream, you give me all of the ice cream," she claimed. Frank looked around to see if anyone else was hearing the monstrosity that was this conversation and mouthed an appalled What?.
"You're...poor," he stated bluntly.
"I take offense?" Jo replied. Frank shook his head.
"You can't afford all of that. You. Are. Poor." He emphasized the last words slightly.
"Again, I take offense. And again, give me the ice cream," Jo demanded. She furrowed her eyebrows and leaned forward, showing her anger. Which, if you couldn't already tell, was completely and utterly fake.
"No, I'm not going to give you the—" Frank started. Clearly, Bev had gotten sick of their bickering, so she stepped in front of Jo and interrupted Frank mid-sentence.
"We'll just have one scoop of cookies and cream and another of lemon sorbet. Thanks, Frank," she said. She smiled as she placed a five-dollar bill on the counter in front of him. "Keep the change."
Frank grumpily snatched the bill, putting it into the cash register. As Jo and Bev walked away, he kept his gaze on Jo, his glare seaming into the back of her head.
"I think I'd rather give her a scoop of shit," he mumbled under his breath, just to himself. Then, he began preparing their order.
As soon as they slid into the booth at the corner of the store, Bev winced. Jo resisted the urge to laugh.
"I hate being a woman," Beverly sighed. She put her head face down on the table in her arms.
"You'll get used to it," Jo assured her. Beverly lifted her head up and scrunched her eyebrows.
"You're kidding, right? There's no way I'm ever getting used to this," she muttered. Jo shrugged. Who knew, maybe she wouldn't get used to it. Jo certainly hadn't. She just said it to make Bev feel better.
"Eh, maybe you won't," she said. Bev's eyes widened.
"Jo, you're not supposed to admit that!" she scolded. "At least lie to me." Jo chuckled.
"Too late," she sang. Bev groaned. Just then, Frank walked up to their booth and set their small bowls of ice cream on the table.
"Thanks, Frank," Bev said lowly, grabbing the ice cream and sighing. Frank stared at her with a look of confusion written all over his face.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked. Jo brought up her hand to shoo him away.
"Nothing you should be concerned about," she replied. He stared a little bit longer, a look of concern now on his face. Finally, he shrugged and walked away. Jo grabbed her ice cream.
"Hey, you wanna know what else will make you feel better?" Jo asked Beverly. Bev took a bite of her ice cream.
"What?" she mumbled, her mouth full.
"We still have to go to the Quarry tomorrow with the boys," she smirked. Bev reached out and shoved her shoulder as Jo laughed.
"Josephine Abrams! You're horrible," she scolded. Jo only laughed more.
"I'm just telling the truth," she stated bluntly. Beverly groaned for probably the fiftieth time that day.
"We're done talking about my problems. How about you finally tell me why you don't like Bill?" Bev suggested. Jo rolled her eyes. The brunette boy was the last thing she wanted to talk about.
"Do we have to?" she complained. Bev nodded.
"Unless you have a different idea," she replied. Jo thought about it. Truth be told, she didn't have another idea.
"Nope. I've got nothing," she mumbled.
"Okay. Then tell me," Beverly said. Jo sighed and took another bite of her ice cream.
"I don't know what it is. I know he lost his brother recently, and I feel horrible about that. But he just...agitates me a little," Jo explained. Clearly, though, not enough.
"How so?" Beverly asked her. Jo bit her lip and crossed her arms, wondering if she could actually admit what the real reason behind her hatred for Bill Denbrough was. She finally decided she would say it. Besides, if she didn't, Bev would bug her relentlessly.
"I can tell he likes you. And I can tell he plans to take you away from me. Even if he doesn't know it," Jo admitted.
And Beverly's heart warmed a little bit.
"Jo Abrams, are you jealous?" Bev asked in a teasing tone. Jo immediately changed her demeanor.
"What? No!" she exclaimed. But Beverly could see through her.
"Yes, you are," she claimed.
"No, I'm not. I don't care if you date Bill. That's your choice," Jo said.
"You are so jealous," Bev taunted. Jo reached out and pushed her shoulder lightly. Beverly laughed a little as the brunette glared daggers at her. Opposite Beverly, Jo's face was solemn and sad.
"I just...don't want to lose you to some stupid boy," she said softly. She fidgeted with her fingers as Bev stared at her, and her laughter faded.
"Hey," she said in an attempt to get Jo to look at her. When she didn't, she placed her hand on top of Jo's. Then, Jo glanced up at her. "You won't lose me. To anyone."
"Promise?" Jo asked.
"Promise," Bev confirmed. Jo blew a raspberry. She stared into Bev's blue eyes with sincerity.
"You're my best friend. You have been since we were little. And you know I love you, and you know you're all I have. Can you blame me for getting jealous?" Jo admitted. Bev gave her a half-smile.
"I guess I can't," she said sadly. "You're all I have, too," she whispered. Jo smiled, but it was a sad one.
Why were their lives so fucked up? Why couldn't they both have loving parents and live in a town full of kind people? Why was it Derry, and why did it have to be like this?
But both girls knew deep down. They knew that even with the hole that was Derry, and even with people like Henry Bowers and Greta Bowie, they would be okay. Because they had each other. If they didn't, they would break. Because just like the sun and the moon need each other to bring beauty to the sky, Bev and Jo needed each other to bring beauty to the others' life.
At this point in Beverly Marsh's life, all lights had faded. They had gone dim and they had burned out. The only light that kept on shining brighter to make her days joyful was Jo. And even though it was impossible to have a light stay brightly-lit for eternity, Bev knew this was a different light.
This was the sun.
Jo was the sun.