Before I even opened my eyes, I was aware of two things: the awful pounding in my head and something smooth under my hands. I forced my eyes open just a little bit and recognized the high ceilings of the synagogue. Then, a wonderfully familiar voice.
"Dad! She's awake!"
"S...Stan?" I managed to ask, turning my head to the side so that I could see him.
"Yeah, (y/n), it's me. I'm here now." He said and I felt him grab my hand, "How are you feeling?"
"Not good, Stanley." I said, my voice was all hoarse and scratchy.
"Right, that makes a lot of sense. But, do you think you need to go to the hospital?" He asked, helping me sit up.
"I don't wanna go to the hospital." I shook my head. I'd have to tell them what happened, and I really don't feel like talking about it right now.
"I know you don't want to go, but you might have a concussion and that's pretty serious, (y/n)." Stan said, sitting next to me on the pew.
"Stan, please I'm fine." I shook my head, becoming very aware of the throbbing pain in the back of my head.
"You're not fine, you were almost..." His eyebrows furrowed together and he bit his bottom lip, "Just answer some questions for me, okay?"
"Okay."
"Are you feeling nauseous, like you might throw up?" He asked.
"No."
"Okay, um are you tired? Do you feel like you need to go to sleep right now?"
"No."
"What's the capital of Maine?"
"What?"
"The capital of Maine, what is it?"
"Augusta, why does that matter?"
"Because if you had a concussion then you might not be able to think straight." Stan rolled his eyes as if I should just know these things.
"Stanley, she doesn't have a concussion. She'll be alright." I looked up to see Stan's dad looking down at us from upstairs.
"I'm just worried about her, okay? Stuff like this doesn't happen often around here." Stan shrugged.
"I appreciate it, Stan, but you're kinda acting like Eddie's mom." I smiled over at him.
"Shut up, I am not." He rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, we'll take you home and you can go to the police in the morning-" Stan's dad started.
"Actually, Mr. Uris, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay at your house tonight." I said, glancing over at Stan's almost shocked face.
"Why is that?" Mr. Uris asked, making his way down the stairs.
"I'm not on good speaking terms with my brother, and my parents don't know I left the house." I took a deep breath, "I just down feel like being yelled at or being alone tonight."
Mr. Uris took a moment, thinking it over. In fact, he took so long that I thought he might say no.
"That's fine with me, (y/n)." He nodded finally.
"Wait, really?" Stan asked, quickly turning yo his father but not before I saw the flush on his cheeks.
"Yes, really. She can borrow some of your clothes since her dress has been ruined and we'll take her home in the morning." He smiled, gently resting a hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you, sir." I nodded, happy I wouldn't have to deal with my family for once.
"You're very welcome, it's been a while since you've spent the night. I think it's long overdue."
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"Alright, you can wear these. They should fit you, but if not we can always go see if my mom has something for you." Stan shrugged as he handed me a t-shirt and sweatpants (two things I never would've thought that Stan owned).
"No, these should be fine." I smiled.
"Hey um...are...are you gonna be okay? Be honest with me." Stan said, turning away from me.
"Stan, I'm not hurt that badly-"
"No, I mean, Henry he...he was going to...rape you. What would've happened had my dad not been there?" He sounded like he might cry.
"But he was there, Stanley. Don't think about what ifs." I dropped the clothes on his bed and stood in front of him.
"I don't want you to get hurt, (y/n). I care a lot about you, and I never thought that something like this would happen." He shook his head as the first few tears started to fall.
"Stanley, I'm going to be okay. If it'll make you feel better, I promise that I'll never walk by myself at night again." I said, pulling him into a hug.
"Why were you out there by yourself to begin with?" He asked, sniffling back tears.
I couldn't tell Bev about me and Bill, but now I wasn't too sure whether I could tell Stan or not.
"Umm...I was out with a friend and I was on my way home. The movie ran a little late." I shrugged. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings and Stan was definitely not on Bill's side during the big fight we all had.
"A friend took you to the movies? Just the two of you?" He asked, pulling away from the hug. His mood changed fast...
"Yeah, so?" I asked, trying to play it cool.
"That kinda sounds like a date, (y/n)." He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.
"It wasn't a d-"
"Who was the friend?" He asked, looking as though he might smile, "Please tell me it was Eddie!"
"No, it wasn't Eddie. You know we aren't supposed to see him right now." I sighed, sitting back on Stan's bed.
"So if we were still allowed to hang out would it have been Eddie?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Family reasons." I shrugged.
I couldn't like Eddie. Richie was crushing on him first and it's like sibling code or whatever. You know, like girl code, but stronger.
"Alright, fine, it wasn't Eddie. Who was it then?" He asked, obviously more genuinely interested than I thought he'd be.
I guess Bill and I were the first losers to ever go on a date, so I guess it's big news.
"That's a secret." I said, pretending to lock my lips and throw away the key.
Stan looked around like he was making sure no one else was around before leaning in really close and asking, "Was it Beverly?"
"What? No! You've got the wrong idea, I'm not...you know." I shook my head. That was one name I didn't think he'd guess.
"Okay, just covering all my bases," he shrugged, "is it Mike?"
"No, it's not Mike. What's up with the interrogation?" I rolled my eyes.
"If I know who you were out with, then I have someone to blame. They knew it was after curfew, and they didn't walk with you." He shook his head, sitting down next to me.
"Listen, it wasn't his fault. He offered to walk me home, but I told him that I would be fine." I grabbed Stan's hand, hoping he would believe me.
"Okay, I won't blame the loser who let you walk by yourself through town at night after curfew. But I am going to give you my home phone number and the number to the phone at the synagogue."
"Stan, I already know you're home phone number."
"Fine, you'll get the one from the synagogue too. That way, you can call me if you ever have to walk alone again. I don't know how well I'll be able to protect you, realistically thinking, but it's better than being completely alone."
"Okay, Stan. You can be my personal night chauffeur if that's what you really want."
"You promise?"
"I promise." I nodded, standing up and kissing the top of his head, his curls tickling my nose, "But right now, I'm going to shower and change."
I walked out of Stan's room and my bottom lip started to tremble. I didn't want to cry in front of him and make him worry about me more than he already was. I clutched the neatly folded clothes to my chest as I quickly made my way down the hall to the bathroom.
I hurried inside, quickly locking the door behind me. I sat the clothes on the toilet seat and turned on the shower. I streipped down, leaving my now dirty and ripped dress a pile on the floor next to my sandals. I caught my reflection in the mirror as tears started to pour down my face.
I looked over myself, taking in every scrape, bruise, or soreness. My chest, palms, and knees scraped all to hell from where I fell on the concrete. My wrists ached and I was hoping that they wouldn't bruise. The back of my head was throbbing and me getting upset wasn't exactly helping.
I fucking hate Bowers! The one time I feel pretty, The one time I feel like I'm not a loser, and he just had to ruin it. He ruins everything!
I hoped no one could hear me over the running water as I sunk to the floor, my knees pulled up to my chest as I cried. I felt so...gross and overexposed. Henry, Belch, and Victor were some of the last people on this planet that I would ever want to touch me like that.
There was a knock on the door. "Are you alright in there sweetie?"
"Umm...yeah, I'm fine." I tried to sound as calm as possible, but my voice was shaky and breaking.
"Alright, honey, but when you're dome, bring me your dress. I might be able to fix it." I could tell that she didn't believe me.
"Okay...I'll be out in a few minutes." I sniffled, rubbing my eyes a bit aggressively.
I heard her walk away and I forced myself up off the floor and into the shower. The water was already starting to cool off, but I would've showered in ice water if it meant I could finally get rid of the feeling of Henry's hands all over me.
I lathered up a washcloth and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed my entire body until it was sore. My stomach and my legs had turned a bright pink by the time I finished. I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I dried off and got dressed quickly before taking a look at my reflection.
My mascara has smeared under my eyes and the bruises on my neck seemed a lot darker than they had a few minutes ago. I looked like something straight out of a horror movie. I guess it's fitting, my entire life has been a horror movie recently.
After I dropped off my dress with a very comfy Mrs. Uris, I made my way back to Stan's room. I took a deep breath and hoped I'd gotten off all of the mascara tracks as I pushed open the door.
Stan was sitting as usual with his nose in a book until I shut the door behind me. He sat it down on his nightstand and nodded over to me.
"Do you feel a little better now?" He smiled, his dimples on full display.
"Yeah." I nodded. His smile was comforting, as it always had been.
"Anyway, we should probably be getting to bed. You've got a lot to do tomorrow." Stan shrugged.
"Actually, we can stay up a little bit longer, right? I mean, it's only 8:30." I shrugged, sitting down on the bed next to him.
"What do you wanna do?"
"I don't know, we could watch a movie or something. I just don't want to go to bed just yet."
"Yeah, we can watch a movie if you want, but we have to go down stairs. I don't have a tv in my room." He shrugged.
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We had just finished watching Beeteljuice and were about to put in Footloose when Stan's mom appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"Do you two know what time it is?" She asked, and unlike when I heard that phrase at home, she had a smile on her face.
"No mam, did we wake you up?" I asked.
"No, Donald and I were just about to head to bed, so I thought I'd come down to check on the two of you." She shook her head, pulling her blue silk robe a bit closer around herself.
"We, should probably head upstairs too, (y/n) it is getting pretty late." Stan flashed his watch that read 10:57.
"Yeah, I guess we should go to bed." I shrugged, still not exactly tired.
After Stan and I turned off the TV, VHS player, and the lamps in the living room, we headed upstairs to his room. I stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure where I was going to sleep.
Stan opened his closet and emerged with some blankets and an extra pillow, all in a neatly folded pile.
"You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor tonight." He smiled up at me.
"This is you're room, I can't let you take the floor." I shook my head, reaching out for the blankets in his hands.
"And you're a lady who has had a rough night and needs a proper place to sleep. I'm taking the floor and that's the end of discussion."
"Fine." I huffed, rolling my eyes before crawling under the neat baby blue comforter he had laid across the bed.
I watched as Stan quickly and precisely laid the blankets out on the floor before laying down. I could hear him shifting around for a minute and finally he went silent. However, that silence only lasted about thirty seconds before he sighed.
"I forgot to turn off the lights." He pushed himself off of the floor and turned off the lights, plunging the room into pure darkness.
I turned onto my side, pulling the blankets up to my chin and listened to the sound of Stan getting comfortable again. Once he stopped moving aroynd, the room was eerily silent and even though I knew Stan was at the foot of the bed, I felt like I was all alone.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will myself to sleep. After what felt like forever, but was probably only five minutes I rolled back over and sat up in bed.
"Stan...you still awake?" I asked.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"I just...I mean...can you sleep up here with me?" I had never shared a bed with a guy who wasn't related to me before.
"I don't know if that's the best idea."
"Stan, please."
"Alright, fine. I'll protect you from the scary things that go bump in the night." I heard him get up and come around to the other side of the bed. He felt around for a moment and then slid into the bed next to me.
"Thank you Stanley." I mumbled, resting my head on his chest.
"No problem," he said, wrapping his arms around me.
(Sorry that it's kinda short and it might not make a lot of sense, I've been writing this over the last couple days while I've been sick, and haven't really looked over it. But I thought that since I've been saying that Stan is your best friend, I should probably show off that friendship at least once. Also, this will be brought up in later chapters cause I have a lot of drama planned, so stay tuned for that!)