September 26th – Bill's house
* 3rd person POV
It now had been around three weeks since Y/N had moved to Derry, and Bill couldn't help but ask Richie a specific question. "You told her, r–right?"
The curly-haired boy took his eyes off his Death's Head comic. "Told her what?"
Bill groaned. "You know wh–what! Stop acting s–so clueless," he looked out his bedroom window," Y/N's helping M–Mike delivery meat right now, you don't have t–to pretend."
Stan scoffed. "Why should she need to find out about what happened? Her life hasn't been that great so far, why make her worry?"
Amid the bantering, Eddie was giving Richie a look of disgust as he excessively licked his thumb to flip the page of his comic book. Richie was still acting as though he had no idea what the boys were talking about.
"What if It c–c–comes back?" Bill was now standing, a finger pointed at Stan.
"It only comes out every twenty-seven years, Ben has proof of that." Stan countered. "Let's not scare her with something she won't even be around to see."
"It's a f–f*cking cl–clown that can warp people's minds! It can probably come out h–hiber–hibernation whenever the f–f*ck it wants!" Bill gave Stan a stare that looked as though it could bore holes through his skull. "Why are you p–pretending to care, when you cl–clearly don't? You just don't want to confront the i–issue because you're too scared—hoping th–that if y–you ignore it it'll go away."
Stan stood up to be at eye-level with Bill. "That's not true."
"If Ge–Georgie had been warned about P–Pennyw–wise he'd maybe still be here, but he's—
"Everyone shut the f*ck up!" Richie yelled, the lanky boy now towering over the pair. "I don't know about you guys, but I like having someone around who doesn't have trauma from a child-eating clown. Y/N finally has friends and she's happy—and I'm not letting anyone take that away from her."
Two hours later
* Y/N's POV
"Come on guys! Please?" You begged the boys. "So what if it's a bit chilly? I've never been, I want to see it." You couldn't believe they didn't want to go to the quarry with you.
"Y/N," Eddie added quickly, "it's the end of September we could get hypothermia or something."
Pfft... A reasonable excuse? That wasn't going to stop you. You were as stubborn as a mule, and your friends were well aware of that. Deep down they all knew that the odds of you backing down were next to none.
You dropped your gaze to the floor. "Fine," The boys seemed shocked by your surrender, as well as relieved, "I'll go by myself then!" You yelled triumphantly. You made a break for the exit, laughing like a maniac. Though your plan of escape was thwarted as Eddie grabbed the back of your shirt. You attempted to pry his hands off, only to get tackled to the ground by your brother. You struggled to move, as the tall body had you pinned to the ground.
"You know what?" Richie thought aloud. "I guess September isn't that bad. But we're coming with you." Most of the boys groaned, but Mike seemed excited as he was the second-newest member of the group, and hadn't been either. Eddie, quite the opposite to Mike, seemed to be naming all the negative outcomes of swimming outdoors so late in the season.
The display of mixed reactions was interrupted by Stan. "Given the fact that Y/N only owns like, five shirts, I think it would be important to shine some light on the possibility that she might not own a swimsuit." He turned to you. "Do you?" You frowned and shook your head.
"Well, didn't B-Beverly used to go in her—
He didn't get to finish his sentence, as Richie intervened. "No! She's not going half-naked"
"There isn't much of a difference between a bathing suit and underwear," Ben said matter-of-factly.
"Which is exactly why you were going with one of my T-shirts." Richie directed the statement to you. It was now your turn to groan.
———
You held on tightly to Richie as he rode through the woods. You were dying to get your own bike, but you figured you might as well enjoy the effort-free rides for the time being. The wind hit your face and blew your y/c hair around wildly. The extremely oversized T-shirt Richie had lent you (which you were almost certain would be baggy on even him) was catching the air like a parachute. You could feel the air entering your shirt, sending shivers up your spine. You knew things would be ten times worse in the water, suddenly regretting your decision– But there was no turning back now.
Your thoughts were halted as the bike came to a stop.
"Ta-dah!" Richie said unenthusiastically, doing jazz hands to add to the effect. "This is the infamous quarry you've been dying to see." Despite your brother's sarcastic tone you couldn't help but notice the beauty in the quiet spot.
"So are we jumping in?" You heard Mike's voice. You turned around to find the rest of the club had arrived, minus Eddie.
"We should all jump in together holding hands!" You said half-jokingly.
Stan rolled his eyes, a smile plastered on his face. "Like that one heartfelt scene in every coming-of-age movie?" He asked as he stripped down to his boxers along with the others.
"Yep." You laughed as you grabbed both Richie and Stan's hands and walked towards the edge. Once you all were linked up you leaped over.
———
"Thank g–god you weren't here w–when we used to swim in our tighty whit–whities." Bill laughed, whilst treading water.
"What?" You shivered slightly. "I would've died to see that!" The group laughed.
"Well too bad Eddie didn't come. I'll bet you five bucks he still wears 'em." Richie smirked.
"Alrighty," you began, "Rich used to cut our phone calls short to come here. There's got to be more fun to it."
Bill smirked. "Ch–Chicken." Your expression turned into one of confusion. "Wait, y–you've never played?" You shook your head.
After a few minutes, the boys had explained the concept of the game to you. You were sat on Mike's shoulders, as your brother said he's the one who'd 'be least likely to make a move on you'.
"I've got the legs and you've got the upper body, my man," Richie said as Stan struggled onto his shoulders, "we have the advantage of height. We'll dominate."
You rolled your eyes. "I don't know about that, Rich. You're still built like a tent pole."
"Three... two..." You felt Mike's grip on your shins grow stronger and his stance grow sturdier. "One." You charged. You clung onto Mike's shoulders, trying not to lose balance. You collided with Stan as you pushed your palms against his.
"Is that a black-crowned night-heron?" You exclaimed in fake awe, as an attempt to distract your curly-haired opponent.
"I'm not falling for that," he laughed. "Wait, you're into birdwatching?"
You chuckled, as he was now quite intrigued, paying no mind to the fact that you were both having a chicken fight at that moment. "No, you idiot," you rolled your eyes as you locked your elbows, allowing you an advantage over Stan's bent ones. "You tell us about your bird sh*t all the time. Anything I know about birds is from you."
The look on his face was of shock and joy. "You actually listen? The guys usually don't care about—
You took that moment to push on Stan's chest, sending him into the water with flailing arms.
Later that evening
You were sat on Stan's bed, wearing one of his crew necks along with a pair of sweatpants. He had brought them to the quarry, as he knew you were quite forgetful and didn't want you stuck with wet clothes to wear. He offered for you to come over and talk for a while since his parents were gone to visit his grandmother over the weekend.
"Here's a picture of a cardinal I took last week," he handed you a quality picture, with the vibrant bird perched on a branch, "we get them in my backyard all the time.
"Although you usually listened intently as Stan spoke of his interest in birds, you couldn't help but be distracted by his room. His bedroom was quite plain, which didn't surprise you, given how stern his parents were. The walls were painted a pale blue, which gave the room a calm feel. He had a shelf on the wall with an elephant plushy on it, which he swore he 'only kept there because he was too lazy to take it down'.
"It's a nice shot," you said as you held the photograph. You smiled and handed it back to him. To be frank, although you enjoyed it, you had gotten a bit bored of talking about birds. Ever since you had shown the slightest interest in the topic earlier that day, Stan hadn't stopped talking about it—while at the quarry, the bike ride to his house and now, as the two of you sat in his room. You thought of a different topic to bring up. "What's your deepest, darkest fear?"
Stan dropped his picture and looked at you with wide eyes. "W–what?"
"Chill out, you're starting to sound like Bill!" You laughed, "I was just looking for something to talk about."
"Uh– I don't know," he scratched the back of his neck, "you?"
"Spiders." You answered simply. "Ooh! And uneven numbers– A spider with seven legs, probably my worst nightmare." You laughed at your answer.
"Man, I was expecting something profound, like the inevitability of death."
"Obviously not," you shook your head, "once the Reaper comes, I'm accepting death with open arms". Stan sent you a look of concern, to wish you smirked. "Relax, I'm just joking. I thought you'd know better than to expect me to give a serious answer, considering you've been best friends with my brother for years."
"Don't think you're anything like Richie, 'cause it's not true. Thoughts like that can't be good for your mental health." Stan chuckled.
"Hey, he's my brother and I love him very much. He's like an angel sent from the heavens to keep me safe!" You exaggerated, with both hands over your heart.
You peered over the edge of Stan's bed, to see him sitting on the floor laughing, whilst rolling his eyes.
After a moment's silence, he got back up and sat next to her on the edge of his mattress. "But in all seriousness, you aren't much like Richie. You're not dumb, for starters. I know you guys are only half-siblings, but if not I would swear you stole all of his brain cells in the womb. And you're caring, nice..." he trailed off. "But you do share some traits, I must say."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Such as?"
"Well, you both forget stuff 24/7. I don't think there have been two consecutive days where you haven't asked to borrow one of my pencils in class. Plus, if it weren't for me, your brilliant friend, you would still be sat in soaking wet clothes." He gave you a wink as he said the 'brilliant friend' part. "Not to mention, you both say ridiculous things, you swear like sailor– And you're both so oblivious!"
You pouted, in mock offence. "Name one thing to which I'm oblivious." You crossed your arms.
Stan looked at you with a look, as if to say it was quite obvious. "Uh– y'know what? I'll let you remain clueless." He laughed, and you punched him in the arm.
You both talked about various topics, for hours on end. Boy, were you happy to have a friend who cared. And boy, were you clueless.
* Word count: 1981 *