There was a place not far from the Kissing Bridge. Not along the road, but down along the river. Some minutes' walk downstream was an old shack-type, grounded tree-house. It had been there, people said, as long as Derry itself. Many kids and teens would visit the sight, though only the older kids dared to enter; rumours of ghosts and murderous hobos clutching the minds of the children too young to know better, and simply those with weaker hearts.

In reality, it was a place most middle schoolers and high schoolers would go to drink, smoke, do drugs and, in some instances, fuck. If anything, the rumours were started by the older kids to keep the youngers at bay.

It was the start of summer vacation, and Richie, Stanley and Bill had been wandering down the stream, the leader of their little band pointing to where he and Eddie had once built a small dam, only to have it broken by some teens that had come along.

"We KNOW about your little dam, Billy." Richie said with a hard roll of his eyes, "You only tell 's about it every time we come down here. It's just about the gayest thing you've ever done, you know?" The bespectacled teen smiled then, "Did you guys touch tips too?"

"Wh-what the h-heh-hell, Richie? We were l-luh-like ten."

"What's that matter? I heard Cindy Rodgers gave Dave Clemence a handy under the Kissing Bridge in sixth grade!"

"Jesus, Richie. Do you believe everything you hear?" Stan asked with a shake of his head, though it was soon followed by a short breath of laughter.

"Uhh, only the cool stuff. You wouldn't know about cool if it bit you on the ass though, Stan."

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause you're the epitome of cool, trashmouth."

"Damn fucking right, I am! Got your mom to spell it out for me on my—"

"Sh-suh-shut up, Richie! You t-tuh-too, Stan!"

The two boys only laughed, Richie nudging Stan's elbow with his own as they continued down the way; kicking a few stones into the stream.

"So, Rich, where's Eddie today?" Stanley asked, breaking the few moments of silence that had settled in the summer air.

"Eds? Uhh, he had to go to a doctor's appointment with Mrs. K, and then I think they were runnin' some errands." Richie had since picked up a stick, using it to prod at some of the rocks in the water. Stan and Bill shared a knowing glance.

"You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" Stan continued, eyes briefly looking to the stick Richie had in his hand. What was he going to achieve?

"I wouldn't say a lot." Richie rolled his shoulders, "I only know about all that 'cause he called me last night."

"He c-cuh-called you?"

"Yeah. He calls me all the time."

Stan and Bill shared another look, this time, Richie caught it; anxiety swelling in his chest.

"What—? What was that look for?" Richie blinked, "Are you guys doin' some weird, virgin mind reading thing? Is that why I—"

"Shut up, Richie."

Richie frowned.

"We just th-thuh-think it's o-oh-odd."

"Odd?" Richie echoed the word, letting it twist and turn before settling in his mind; letting himself process its meaning. "How is it odd? We're friends."

"Best friends."

"Yeah?" Richie straightened up, "We all, aren't we?"

There was another shared glance and the small group of three was soon walking again.

"Rich, is there something—going on? With Eddie?"

"Something?" The boy readjusted his glasses, turning magnified eyes Stan's way. Of course, the question itself cause a slew of anxiety to build in his chest; mind running a mile a minute (not that it was anything new).

"Y-ye-yeah. He's been acting w-weh-weird." Bill said, "D-duh-different."

"Eddie? Actin' different?" Richie scoffed, "Nah. Nah, dude. Eddie's the same. He's always the same." He laughed, "I think he's allergic to change."

"Or allergic to the truth." Stanley commented with a short shrug, only to be elbowed by Bill to his left.

"The truth? What truth?" Richie blinked, "You two are talking all cryptid and shit today, what the fuck."

"Well, you two have just gotten—a lot closer recently." Stanley started, trying to keep his voice as light and easily as possible (which was a challenge for him to say the least). "We're just curious if you know, anything's going on."

"Anything's going on? Stan dude, what the fuck do you mean by that?" His words came out fast and more defensive than he had intended, dark brows furrowing as he toyed with a frayed thread on his old Hawaiian shirt.

"You know exactly what I mean, Richie." Stan smirked, "You guys are always together these days… You've got people talking."

"Talking? What the hell! I don't even—we're not like that! I mean, he might be, but I'm not!"

"M-muh-might be what?"

"You know! Gay!"

Richie regretted the words the moment he had spoken them, immediately slapping his hands over his mouth, eyes blown wide in shock.

"I didn't say that! You—you didn't hear it from me! God, don't tell Eddie, please!"

"Richie we a-auh-already n-nuh-know."

Richie let his hands slowly fall from his face, dropping to his sides as he stood in place, staring at his two friends in disbelief. "What? How? Did—did he tell you?"

"He didn't have to," Stan started, "I mean, he doesn't really try hard to, you know, hide it."

Lips pursed tightly, Richie turned his gaze to the dirt. He could feel the guilt manifesting, leaving his throat feeling gaunt and dry.

"Still… He trusted me, guys. That was a secret he trusted me with and—"

"Calm down, R-Ruh-Richie. We won't tell." Bill assured.

"Yeah. We'll tell him we figured it out on our own. Like I said, it's not like he's tried to hide it."

Richie didn't buy it, but he supposed there was nothing he could really do. Sometimes, he really hated his big mouth.

"Okay, if you say so." Richie sighed, "But, you guys know it doesn't change who Eddie is, right? He's- he's still the same person and shit."

"Course we know that, hogweed." Stanley defended, looking to Richie with a face that was bordering on offended. Really, Richie must've thought he was Eddie's only friend in all the world. "And like we said, we won't tell. He won't even suspect a thing."

Again, Richie nodded, though he couldn't rid himself of the numb sinking feeling in his chest. He felt as if he was being weighed down all the way to China from his guilt.

The three boys continued along the way, soon enough reaching the Kissing Cabin that they had been heading toward. Richie took to sitting cross legged on the floor, fingers idly twirling and toying with a few blades of grass that poked through the floorboards. Stanley and Bill sat across from Richie, their knees brushing slightly as they shared another glance. Neither knew how to start.

"S-suh-so…" Bill breathed, "you're o-oh-okay with Eddie being—being gay?" His words seemed to tremble and fall from his lips in an oddly ungraceful way. Bill wasn't the best of talkers to begin with, that was obvious, but something about the way of his words left Richie… Confused.

"Well duh," Richie breathed, "he's my best friend. Like I said, it doesn't change him." Richie couldn't explain what he was feeling in that moment. He kind of felt like a cornered animal, with Stan and Bill as the hunters. They wanted something from him, he could tell that much, but the teen couldn't figure out what.

He pushed up his glasses.

"What the hell is this all about?" Now, it was Richie's turn to have his voice quake. "I don't—I don't really appreciate the twenty questions you guys are givin' me. Haven't I made the point clear enough or somethin'—?"

Richie continued to ramble. Stand and Bill only stared ahead at him in near disbelief. They could tell they had struck a chord, but what one?

"Richie I'm gay." Stanley interjected, voice flat and plain, not fault to his words. That was enough to shut Richie up.

"W- what?"

"Well, not gay, I mean—I like girls. I'm bi. I think."

Stanley was never the unsure type, Richie knew that much. They had only gotten close in the past few years; having been introduced through Bill. And, well, Richie was an acquired taste at best, not many people would put up with his jokes and endless, inappropriate banter. It took Stanley years to be able to deal. Which, was what left Richie so shocked about all of this. Stan the Man had just come out. To Richie. In the Kissing Cabin.

"O-oh… That- that's cool!" Richie tried to regain his composure, though it was harder than he had anticipated.

"Cool? That's what you're going with?"

"Yep! Best I got. Sorry, squid."

Stanley sighed, sending a pleading look Bill's way, though he only laughed, shaking his head dismissively.

Silence settled in the cabin once more, only the sound of wind moving through the leaves and the trickling stream outside would invade the teens' ears in those quiet moments. It was calming, in an odd sort of way, Richie thought. He didn't have much of a grasp on his thoughts in that moment, about a hundred-thousand questions and stupid jokes to make rushing through his brain, getting clogged at the back of his throat.

Sometimes, it really felt like there was a spider on the back of his tongue with a million little legs of words tickling at him, coaxing the boy to just open his mouth. This time, despite the tickle, he kept it shut… But he couldn't for long.

He couldn't when there was one question on his mind. One that just kept replaying over and over. Kind of like those catchy TV advertisements he still remembered from his childhood. He would often sing them in the shower… No. Stanley is bi, he reminded himself. He had to focus.

Richie licked his lips slowly, thinking over his words just the same. He thought about that passing May. He thought about how Eddie had told him. He thought about how nice the cotton candy was that afternoon. About Eddie's smile. He always liked Eddie's smile.

Richie breathed in, "How did you know?"