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Chapter 10: A Rolling Stone gathers no Moss
The sight of blood didn't result in the pits of her stomach making its way up her throat like most of the horror movies would suggest, but that didn't mean that it granted her any visible solace either. Then again, it was never natural for a human being to find such views consoling either, unless they were severely disturbed. Henry Bowers would probably have enjoyed watching the show for himself if he was present.
Thank God he wasn't.
Looking back at it, Cassie would never guess in an entire lifetime that she would find an entire room covered in blood like the one she was currently in. The first time she had her period and she thought she was dying, her mother had unexpectedly jumped to the rescue and provided her with a short yet informative piece of information about how to keep track on it through a calendar. This, however, an entire bathroom filled with blood on every corner of her sight, seemed a bit exaggerated.
Beverly washed bathroom mirror, bringing out its reflective surface again, and Eddie had literally concealed himself between thick layers of washing clothes and even sported a mask to shield himself from any possible 'bacterial contamination'. The other boys were less than concerned about getting sick from it, though it was obvious that none of them took any particular delight in washing the blood away. It felt like they had just committed a serious crime and were covering up their tracks.
Grabbing a mop, Cassie began to sweep it across the floor until most of the blood had washed away, and she then renewed the cloth before she swept across the ceiling as well. She didn't look forward to getting any blood on her like yesterday but it didn't mean that she was going to back out solely because of a little bit of red on her. Her clothes were expendable, and it wasn't like getting a drop on her would mean the end. However, her mother would surely notice it unless she made sure to change them before she returned home.
The cleaning supplies Beverly had weren't little in amount, so there was no need to share it in-between each of the others. However, there were only two buckets in total, so they would have to share them conservatively. Cassie shared hers with Beverly and Bill whilst Eddie, Stan, and Ben shared theirs. It took some time, but eventually, they were able to get most of the blood away. At least the bathroom didn't look like a place where nightmares were made anymore.
"So, Beverly," Cassie asked without looking away from the ceiling as she struggled to get the last of it in the furthest corner by the bathtub. She had to stand on top of the edge of the tub to be able to reach it all, and trying not to slip became a challenge. "What really happened here? Where does this blood come from?"
"It came from the sink," Beverly answered, not looking away from the bathtub she was currently washing with Bill by her side. "I... Thought I heard someone in the sink, and then it just all flowed out. I don't know what it was."
"I'd be surprised if you were," Cassie replied earnestly and finally pulled the mop back down again, grabbing the cloth and throwing it into the bucket next to Eddie. The reddened water splashed and few drops landed on the hypochondriac, causing him to start screaming like he was having a seizure. He threw his gloves off and practically sprinted out of the room, not stopping anytime soon.
Everything in the room fell silent and everyone had stopped washing and turned their faces to the door leading to the corridor where Eddie had run off to. Then they turned to Cassie, who couldn't help but to mouth a silent yet visible 'oops'.
"I think you should go calm him down?" Stanley suggested as he emptied the bucket in the bathtub, letting the crimson water stream out.
Cassie pointed at herself with disbelief. "Me?"
"Well, you caused his outburst, right?"
"It wasn't intentional."
"What you mean doesn't even matter half as much as your actions do."
"Touchè, Uris, I'm crying my eyes out."
Stanley sighed and drew his gloves off his hands. "Let's go and find that poor guy."
Cassie felt tempted to let out a loud sigh, but rather than complaining like a child throwing a tantrum, she bit into her own consequences and followed after Stanley as they headed down the corridor in search of their hypochondriac, germaphobic friend. It didn't take them far to locate him, and the fact that he hadn't even left the living room may have contributed to that.
The poor boy was pacing back and forth in the living room between the main entrance and to the hall leading to the kitchen, muttering incoherent words to himself whilst taking multiple pills at a time, too much to be considered a healthy amount. The way he was acting made her feel uneasy and also slight guilty for having brought him to that stage herself. She had to bring him back from there or else she would be plagued with self-loathing for the rest of the day.
"Hey, Eddie," She tried calmly, reaching for him, but he slapped her hand away and threw both of his arms down frantically.
"Why did you do that? Do you know how much bacteria that could be in that?" He asked her, a mix of agony and anger in his voice. He took deep and unsteady breaths like he was having a panic attack. "That's so disgusting!"
"Calm down, Eddie. It was just a few drops." Stanley attempted to reason, looking just as confused at the moment as Cassie did. He had always known that his best friend tended to exaggerate because of his fear for illnesses and that, but he had never thought he would go over the edge just for a couple of drops of that red water they had washed away. He turned to look at Cassie from the side but spotted no visible signs of expression on her face. She was surprisingly apathetic, physically said. Was she thinking about something?
"Eddie," she said, not raising her tone to stand equal to his own. "Why are you so afraid of getting ill? What sorts of illnesses do you have?"
"I have- I have severe asthma-attacks, and- and I'm allergic to grass... and-"
"Let me look at those pills, please." She reached her hand forth, gesturing for the bottle of pills in Eddie's grip.
"Why do you need them?" He asked cautiously, not giving off the impression that he was going to oblige to her request.
She didn't lower her hand. "Can I just see them? Please?"
Even Stanley was becoming curious about what she was intending on doing with the pills, and so was Eddie. Seeing her with such a stern look on her face did something eerie to him that he was unable to explain with the exploitation of words. Needless, in the end, the hypochondriac reluctantly gave in to her silent demand and handed her one of the bottles he was carrying in his hands.
When she got them, Cassie eyed each of the labels with skepticism and distrust, feeling a hint of recognition surge through her at the look of them. She opened the bottle and pulled a few pills out of them before studying them sharply, like a doctor doing an inspection on a patient with a severely unnoticeable disease. Neither Stanley nor Eddie said anything, but both were looking at her with a wide range of bewilderment and uneasiness.
Stanley didn't really take the Hayes girl for someone who was easily intrigued with something unless it acted out of the law, her delinquent-like behavior didn't do much to contribute her with arguments against that statement. He hadn't known her long enough to be able to distinguish her methods for thinking, and neither of them was really the rest of them. She was their friend, of sorts, but that didn't make her any less prone to suspicion from them if the situation called for it.
Eddie, on the other hand, appeared to become somewhat uneasy about what Cassie was scheming with. Like most other times, her expressions often revealed her intentions. A predictable mood if she allowed them to get a hold of her facial features. However, on this occasion, her face didn't reveal anything for them. She was blank of all possible emotions, but there was the faintest hint of cynicism painted in her eyes.
Then finally, Cassie threw the bottle back to Eddie and he caught it, less ceremoniously than he thought he would and almost lost it once. "Sorry about what I did," she apologized, sincerely sincere this time. "I'll be more careful next time."
Surprisingly, all earlier feelings of hostility against her faded away and Eddie nodded. "It-It's fine. Don't worry about it. Sorry I overreacted."
She smiled and placed a hand on her hips. "Then I guess we're even."
He smiled as well and put the bottles back into his waist-bag. "Guess so."
"I guess we're done here soon, so why don't you two go back with Richie and keep him company?" She suggested. "I imagine that he's quite sour now from all the waiting."
Stanley and Eddie exchanged a couple of glances before they nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we'll go. Just tell the others to hurry up in there," Stanley said as he walked over to the door and opened it, gesturing for Eddie to step out before himself. "I can't handle Richie's constant yapping all the time."
She furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief. "I thought you guys had been friends for longer than the others?"
He shrugged as Eddie passed him by. "We learn and we live." And they were both gone after that, shutting the door quietly behind them.
Cassie took this as her cue and turned to return back to the corridor leading to the bathroom, but upon reaching it, she spotted Ben standing there with his back to her. At first, she didn't understand what it was he was looking so fixated at, but then she noticed Beverly and Bill alone in the bathroom by the bathtub, laughing with each other in a way which could easily make other people perceive it as romantic bonding.
She didn't believe it at first, primarily because she had been friends with Nathan back in Asheville for so long and they always used to laugh like that whenever they were together. Sure, other people tended to spread rumors to satisfy their yearning for entertainment and there were on more than a few occasions that someone had stopped her in the middle of the hallways and demanded why she kept hanging around their 'crush' like he was already claimed by them. It was obnoxious, but she didn't really suspect that there was necessarily happening something between Beverly and Bill.
But upon looking back at Ben and noticing his physiognomy of disappointment and visible heartbreak, she knew that his situation wasn't like her own. He thought, and he knew.
She stood behind him and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and let her eyes stay glued to the people in the bathroom. "It doesn't mean there's no chance for you, you know?"
Oblivious to her presence at first, Ben flinched in his spot and quickly turned around to face whoever had spoken. He calmed down upon seeing only Cassie standing there, but that didn't ease the ache he felt plaguing him from the inside. Ben turned back to the bathroom and let out a deep breath. "He's got more chance on her than I do," he explained despondently. "And she likes him too, so it's a perfect match, right?"
"Well, you're not getting anywhere with that attitude, Ben," she replied earnestly and made sure not to lower her voice so that he could hear how clear and how honest she was being. Luckily, neither of the others in the bathroom seemed to hear them as they continued to converse about an unfathomable subject. Something about a poem, at least, but she wasn't able to hear much else.
"Do you have someone you like?" Ben suddenly asked, not looking away from the sight his eyes were currently glued on. "Someone you liked, but the feelings weren't reciprocated?"
Yes, there was the question she had unknowingly anticipated for him to ask. Cassie took a deep breath and dwelled into her thoughts as the subject hit her. She didn't overreact or fluster about it, she didn't have the strength to do so. There was once back in Asheville a classmate that she had gained an interest in. It wasn't at first sight, she didn't believe in such nonsense, but through the occasional conversations they would share whenever they worked together on a project, she had inadvertently gained a crush on him.
His name was Frederick Carter, and he was quite popular in their class. He was good at sports, good-looking, and intelligent. It seemed a bit expected that she would fall for someone so popular, but the trait she had been attracted to was his kindness foremost. His kindness had been the quality about him which intrigued her. He wasn't a bully, he treated everyone the same, and didn't discriminate anyone. For a foolish moment, she would imagine that he reciprocated her feelings.
He didn't.
Since him, all of the other situations had been trivial and bothersome. She had gained crushes, but none so severe, and none which were ever confessed.
"Yeah, I have," she answered Ben and smiled weakly.
"Have anyone ever had a crush on you?" He asked, still not looking at her.
"That too."
"What did you do?"
"I didn't return their feelings. I didn't know them." She chuckled and unraveled her arms. "There's this silly cycle I seem to be stuck in. Whenever I like someone, they don't like me in return. Whenever someone likes me, I don't like them. My reputation for being a delinquent doesn't really add to my advantages either."
"Nobody's ever liked me in a way like Beverly likes Bill," Ben explained, sounding a little less depressive when talking about himself than of his crush on Beverly.
"They don't have to," Cassie replied with and Ben finally turned around to look at her, bewilderment written over him like a tattoo on his skin.
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged. "Think about it this way. Would you rather have an unpredictable relationship with her, or would you like her to stay in a true friendship where both of your happiness is secured?"
"... The friendship." Ben answered resolved, but meekly. "As long as she doesn't think I'm awkward."
"Like I told you, Ben, Beverly isn't the person to judge or ditch. She's cool." She said with confidence. "Then again, what do I know? Do yourself a favor and don't rely on me for relationship advice. I'm a dead end."
A smile spread across his lips and he looked at the floor without thinning it away. "You know," he began. "You're very wise."
"Oh, the horror." Cassie shook her head. "But I can tell you one thing I know for sure."
He looked up again and she placed a firm yet compromising hand on his shoulder. Compared to her, Ben was short, but he was still able to reach her neck at his tallest. She looked into his eyes with a stern look that was able to crush rocks beneath it, but it was accompanied with the same kind of a look a sister would give her younger sibling.
"Even if you confess and she rejects you,"
He felt his chest tighten at the mention of everything that could go wrong. The scene his mind produced wasn't pleasant, but it vanished as she finished her sentence.
"She won't leave you."
... That wasn't what he expected. Ben had imagined that she would tell him to just get over it and move on, or that Beverly wasn't worth it (which she was), but those words or reassurance proved him wrong. Very wrong.
"But she'll think I'm akw—"
"No, she won't." Her grip on his shoulder tightened to the point where it began hurting, but he didn't say anything. "Listen to me, Ben, like I said earlier. I may be a bitch, but I'm not a lying bitch. I'm not gonna tell you a lie just to feel better about myself. I tell you the full truth when I say that Beverly isn't the person to leave someone for something so insignificant. She will remain your friend, or something else, I don't know. But she won't leave you. You understand?"
The Hanscom boy said nothing at first. There wasn't a word in his mind that left him able to open his mouth to reply. There was a seriousness he wasn't able to comprehend lingering in all of her as far as his eyes could reach; her expressions, her stance, her firm yet benevolent stare. There wasn't a single trace of anything even signifying falsehood. The Hayes girl could be harsh sometimes, even cruel to some degree, but she had never been wrong about anything she had told him, nor had she allowed anything to hurt either himself or the others. As far as he knew, she was as honest as anyone could be. That alone brought him a sense of reassurance no lie in the entire world could bring down.
Instead of saying anything, all he could do was to nod. Nothing but a single one.
Cassie let out a relieved breath and took her hand off his shoulder. Her expression softened and she patted him on the back before turning around to grab one of the bags of the cleansing products they had used in the bathroom. "Come on, let's go to the others before Richie starts whining like a little bitch. I'm not cruel enough to expose either Eddie or Stan to the horror of that." And just like that, she exited the apartment and left him with the troublesome and awkward task of telling Beverly and Bill that they were about to leave.
They all left the apartment complex and headed down the streets towards a place they knew that they could find solitude. They hadn't acquired a specific destination, but anywhere from Beverly's apartment would suffice. Cassie was walking alongside Stanley, and whereas the others had bikes to accommodate them like loyal subordinates, she didn't have one and thus they were forced to walk her pace. She had told them that they didn't have to, but being the stupidly kind friends that they were, they decided to go along with it anyway and save her from having to run after them like a dog on a leash.
Stanley glanced her way and decided to ask a question that had been on his mind ever since he and Eddie first left the apartment before the others joined as well. "Was there something about the medicine?"
She looked at him oddly and tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Eddie's medicine." He replied, making sure to keep his tone low so that his hypochondriac friend couldn't listen to their conversation. He knew how Eddie could become easily agitated if anyone ever got involved with his medicine, especially since it was his mother that was the cause of the anxiety he frequently experienced because of it.
Realization hit her and Cassie raised her head again to walk like a straight line. "I don't recognize the brand, but I know bullshit pills like those when I see them."
"Bullshit?" He asked confused, falling off tracks for a split second there. "What do you mean?"
"There was a period where my mother too exploited pills like that on me, telling me that they would make me better, smarter, even thinner. I was eight years old." She turned back to him again, and the look in her eyes actually caused him to feel some sort of physical discomfort. However, he knew that the concealed anger wasn't because of him. "Those pills were placebos. Bullshit."
"How do you know?"
"It's been a while, but by reading the description on the back of it, I was easily able to detect them. Not to mention that the most frequent treatment method for asthma-attacks is usually inhalers, not some weird-ass name that the local pharmacies I've been to have."
"Why don't you tell him that, then?" He gestured to Eddie, who was currently ahead of them next to Bill.
She shrugged. "It's not something I should get involved with," was her reply. "It's his medication, his choice to take them, then I'll let him. Whatever I say shouldn't be perceived as gospel."
Stanley couldn't believe his ears. "But you said that they were bullshit."
Again, she shrugged. "I help you if I can, but not if it interferes with your personal lives. That's where my line draws."
"So, you'll just let him take them like that?"
She cast him a sharp look. "You tell him then and suffer the wrath of his parents. I have enough problems at home."
"And you're just going to keep lying to him?"
"I'm not lying, Stanley,"
"But you're not telling the truth, either." He countered, almost risking earning himself the attention of the others unless he regained control of himself. "That doesn't make you any less of a liar."
Cassie paused in her steps as he had said that, neither moving nor saying anything. Stanley stopped for a couple of seconds as well to look at her, feeling a bit guilty about what he had just called her, but before he was able to apologize she quickened up her pace and passed him without as much as a second look. "Call me what you want then if that satisfies you," was all she said before she took her place next to Beverly. Stanley stood there for a little longer, unable to comprehend anything that crossed his mind before he was forced to join the rest of them when Richie suddenly started cycling around them.
"No, I love being your personal doorman, really," Richie took the opportunity to circle around them all whilst complaining about having been given the quest of looking out for Beverly's father earlier. Whereas the others were already fully accustomed to his frequent obnoxious behavior about what he liked and didn't like, Cassie was less than pleased about having to endure his whining and felt tempted to roll her eyes. "Could you idiots have taken any longer?" He said whilst continuously circling around them like a vulture surrounding prey, though he was less of a predator than anything else in the world. Intimidating did not fit as one of most noticeable characteristics.
"Shut up, Richie," Eddie said indifferently.
"Yeah, shut up." Stanley accommodated, trying to ease his mind off what had just happened.
"Oh, okay, trash the trash mouth. I get it." Richie shouted back. "Hey, I wasn't the one scrubbing the bathroom floor and imagining that her sink went all Eddie's mom's vagina on Halloween."
Cassie was about to open her mouth and shout some kind of snide reply at him, having had enough with Richie's childish behavior, until Bill suddenly stopped in his tracks out of the sudden. The rest of them followed the same pattern little by little until eventually, they all stopped walking.
"She wasn't imagining it," he said, looking quite hesitant about what he was about to say. The Denbrough boy debated with keeping his mouth shut, but since everyone had already by then turned to look at him, he decided that he would go through with it either way. The images of Georgie all rotten and that... Thing still caused him to feel beyond uneasy to the point where his stomach churned, but it would be easier just to get it over with and pretend like he was crazy like Beverly thought she was.
"I sssaw something too." His faze faltered to the ground.
"You saw blood too?" Stanley asked.
"N-Not blood," he replied. What he was about to say next visibly ached his chest to the point of an invisible pain only he could feel inside of him. "I saw G-G-Georgie. I mean it seemed s-so real. I mean, it seemed like him, but there was this..."
"The Clown." Eddie finished, and by then, all of their eyes were glued to the thin boy with both bewilderment and fearful recognition. His eyes scanned across each of them with this uncomfortableness, but he didn't have the strength to deny the fact that his best friend was right. "Yeah, I saw him too."
The Denbrough boy was visibly in doubt at first, thinking that his friends were initially pulling a joke on him, but upon seeing each of their expressions one by one: the indescribable look on Beverly's face which indicated little but angst, the short yet visible nod from Ben, the insignificantly shaking from Stanley, who was looking back at Bill as if searching for a unison answer, and the reluctance to do anything but look on the ground from Cassie. It confirmed that it was no prank, no foolishness in the situation any longer. They were all somehow affected by what had happened, the same thing which had terrorized them probably the same way It had terrorized him. He didn't need their verification to know it was all genuine.
"Wait, can only virgins see this stuff?" Richie suddenly spoke up, not looking anywhere near as fearful as the rest of them were. In fact, had Bill not known him any better, he would almost have believed that his friend wasn't believing them, but he knew better. This was Richie's way of coping with dire stuff like that, as unbelievable as it seemed. "Is that why I'm not seeing this shit?"
"Richie, let's be real here," Cassie replied slowly, putting a hand over her head as if to shield her eyes from something. "If only virgins could see this stuff, you'd be a fucking Oracle by now."
"What? So you're saying that you saw this shit too?" He asked, raising his arms to the same level of his shoulders.
The Hayes girl said nothing at first, but then she replied, just loud enough for them to hear it. "Why'd you think I went to you yesterday?"
"Wait, what do you mean you went to Richie's?" Eddie asked, but she didn't get the chance to reply before the echoing sounds of shouting and screaming in the distance caught their attention. They all spotted the sight of an infamously familiar car parked by the path leading down to the river and right next to it was a bicycle on the ground. Cassie was able to recognize both of them in an instant, especially the wrecked windshield of the car which belonged to none other than the Bowers' gang. The bike, on the other hand, belonged to the Hanlon boy she encountered earlier that day.
"Shit, that's Belch Huggins' car," Eddie acknowledged it far sooner than the rest of them did. "We should- We should probably get out of here."
"Wait. Isn't that the homeschooled kid's bike?" Bill asked and pointed at the laid-down bicycle.
"Yeah, that's Mike's," Eddie answered, seemingly recognizing the Hanlon boy from somewhere.
All of them switched from looking to the bike and to the car, and none of them guessed that anything good was happening.
"We have to help him," Beverly took the initiative of making her plan audible to the others. Her face was painted with determination and fearlessness, something which Cassie didn't let go unnoticed by. Though she had already helped the rest of them on multiple occasions, she wasn't feeling very motivated with pulling herself into yet another situation with the Bowers gang. The scar on her cheek was still present, and needless to say, she didn't really want to risk another episode.
"We should?" Asked Richie, reluctance not making itself very subtle as he spoke.
"Yes," was all Beverly replied with to him before she threw her bike down on the ground and went sprinting towards the forest. In a matter of seconds, the rest of them threw their own bikes down on as well and followed after her. Cassie found herself cursing at herself before she soon followed after them, but not before stopping by the car and looking into the driver's seat. The key was still intact, and the doors proved themselves to be open.
She grinned mischievously.
Michael Hanlon was no stranger towards harassment due to the color of his skin, even more so by the Bowers gang than he ever thought was possible in such a small town like Derry. His objective had been given shortly by his grandfather, and that was to make one final delivery to the butcher that afternoon, just like he had done earlier in the morning the very same day.
His delivery had been abruptly cut, however, when he became unfortunate enough to encounter the Bowers gang one more time. He had tried to get away from them on his bike alone, but being chased at full speed by a car proved itself to become the ultimate challenge he would fail miserably at. His final attempt at getting away was just as much as a failure as his earlier attempts had been, and it didn't take long before they got to him by the river and stomped his head down into the meat he was supposed to deliver to the butcher.
"There are two places you can be in this world. You can be out here like us, or you can be in there like them. You waste time, and someone's gonna make that choice for you, except you won't know that before you got that bolt between your eyes."
Maybe his grandfather had been right all along, that he was nothing but a doomed sheep intended for slaughter in the end. Henry Bowers and his goons proved just that, kicking him down and forcing his face into the meat whilst telling him to eat it. His thirteen-year-old-self wasn't strong enough to withstand them nearly as close enough as he should've, and he regretted not getting stronger when he had the chance.
"Eat it! Eat it!"
"Motherfucker!"
"Come on! Eat it!"
Their voices continued to enter his ears, no pauses were granted. They, however, faded into oblivion when his face raised itself just barely above the meat on the ground, and his dark eyes landed on the figure hiding in the weeds across the river. All blood discarded his face and he felt a chill run up and down his skin. It was the same clown, the one he had seen just days earlier, chewing a hand with blood smeared across his face like frosting on a cake.
The clown seemed to cackle in the distance at him and lightheartedly stopped eating and waved at him with the severed arm in his grip. That was all it took for Mike to try his best to get up and away from there until Belch kicked him in the face and forced him back again in nearly the same position as before. Pain surged through him more than it already did, but that pain was replaced with fear for his life when Henry Bowers himself got on top of him with a contemptuous and dangerous glare in his face.
Mike tried to get himself out of there, struggling beneath the older boy's weight. When Henry grabbed a stone right next to him and prepared to beat him down, Mike thought he was done for sure, if not worse. Then, out of the blue, another stone hit the older boy's head and forced him off of Mike. Without wasting the opportunity which was granted to him, he looked up and watched as a group of kids his age, five boys and two girls, appeared. The red-haired girl had been the one to save his skin, and he couldn't feel more comforted by that than he did that moment.
He quickly got up and practically crawled across the river, not caring about how soaked he got. All strength had abandoned his body earlier, but the knowledge that he was not alone anymore became just enough to provide him with the motivation to get over there towards his saviors. When he finally reached the other side, panting and almost emptied of breath, a hand was outstretched towards him and he looked up to see the same girl he had crashed into with his bike earlier in the morning.
Her dark eyes loomed over him with a threatening aura lingering from her presence, but not nearly as intimidating as that belonging to Henry Bowers. His eyes stayed on her palm for a second, but it changed from that to the face of the girl again. There was a patched area on the side of her right eyebrow, and he recognized it as the one she had received when they crashed into each other earlier.
He was still a bit uncertain about her direct loyalty. She appeared to be on the same side as those who had helped him dodge getting a proper beating from Bowers, but at the same time, he couldn't help but notice how she didn't seem as motivated as the rest of them. Was she racially judgemental? In which case, why did she help him at all?
"What?" Her voice snapped him back to reality again. "You planning on taking a nap down there?" She asked sarcastically, giving him an unimpressed look. Though her tone was not at all like those comforting ones, he didn't take her hand for granted it and grabbed it, letting himself get pulled up by her.
"Thanks," he said, but she only gave a short nod before her glare returned to the Bowers gang.
"You losers are trying to hard," Bowers said from across the river, taking a few arrogant-filled steps forward while Belch and Vic stayed behind, laughing at them. "She'll do you." He tilted his head towards Beverly. "All you gotta do is ask nicely. Like I did." He grabbed his crotch and moved it in suggestive manners. Both Vic and Belch laughed along with him, but not with as much enthusiasm as they usually would.
Ben, already by then, knew he had had enough and quickly let out an ear-piercing battle-cry and picked up one of the rocks from the ground, aiming for Bowers' head. He wouldn't let the bully hurt him, his friends, or his love, any further. That included both physically and verbally. Slangs were by no means excluded from the category. He raised his arm above his head and prepared to throw it, but before he could, a firm hand placed itself on his shoulder.
Cassie had put a hand on his shoulder and prevented him from doing anything impulsive, though it would be considered lying if she said that the temptation to injure more than just their skin was quick to overtake her better judgment for a second. He looked up at her with disbelief at first, questioning why she wasn't letting him do it, but when he saw her stern eyes, he understood what she meant and lowered his shoulders. The grip on the stone he had grasped didn't falter for even a moment.
"Don't do anything rash," she whispered, pulling her hand off of him. "The last thing we are in need of is more trouble. Let's just leave."
"Looking good there, Hayes!" Bowers shouted from across the river, sneering at her with a mocking delight. "Maybe with that look on your face now, someone will actually bother to try and fuck you?" His companions laughed along with him, Belch because he didn't want his leader to think that he wasn't supporting his point of view, but Vic was rather quiet and avoided looking at her. He wasn't without fault in what had happened to her, but he didn't think it was any less disturbing to think about how far Henry had fallen. What happened to both Ben was the beginning, but what he did to Cassie was pure sadism. Not even he himself thought such cruelty was necessary, at least not to such a degree.
"Piss of, Bowers," The Hayes girl's tone didn't get any louder, nor did her glower change, but there was no mistake that what Henry had said somehow hit her on a point where it was efficient. "Use your expendable brain for once and understand when you're beaten. There's eight of us and three of you," she eyed each of them individually with an equally silent and deadly glare, though it seemed to linger on Vic for longer than it did with the others, even Henry himself. What Vic witnessed, however, was neither anger nor hate from that look. It was a stare he had witnessed his own mother give him plentiful of times whenever he returned home accompanied by a police officer.
Disappointment.
He didn't know why, but it seemed to have impacted him more than he should've let it.
Henry, however, didn't falter beneath her glare. "Or else? What are you gonna do? Go home to mommy and cry?"
"I mean it," she countered, not raising her tone at all. "Leave."
"You know, Hayes, it's surprising to see someone like you with some losers like them."
"What's that supposed to mean, dipshit?!" To everyone's surprise, Henry included, the Tozier boy stepped forward and positioned himself in front of the Hayes girl. Even she looked confused at what he was doing, but he stood his ground without indicating that he was going to leave.
It didn't take long before the sneer reappeared on Henry's face. "Didn't think you had a thing for trash mouths, Hayes."
"I don't." She glowered down at Richie and silently mouthed for him to 'stay out of it', but he ignored her and took yet another step forward towards the edge of the river. There was a large stone in his grip, one that was nearly too big for his right hand to hold, but it was held tightly.
"Richie!" She hissed and grabbed him by the back of his shirt before he could walk any further, but he shook her off him without much effort.
"Speak up, Bowers!" He shouted and glared over the river to the bully. "What do you mean by someone like her?"
Henry was clearly amused by this sudden act of courage and anger, but no less surprised than the rest of them. It wasn't uncommon for someone like Richie Tozier to be all talk and no fight, but it actually seemed like he was finally beginning to pick up on the rest of them. Richie could feel the anger inside him start boiling like a canteen over a fire. He was done with Bowers making fun of his friends, and he wouldn't let him do it anymore. He wouldn't.
But before he could take another step forward and just as Henry opened his mouth to answer, Richie felt something grasp the back of his shirt again, twice as hard as before, and he was soon pulled back and slammed into the ground next to the home-schooled kid. His back crashed against the ground and his breath was knocked out of him from the impact, but what surprised him the most wasn't that he was thrown back, but it was the look on Cassie's face when she towered over him where she stood.
He coughed a couple of times before he got up. He glared at her for interfering, but she didn't move away and let him pass. "What the hell is your problem?" He hissed back at her, actually feeling tempted to throw the rock at her instead of Bowers.
Cassie stayed firmly in place. "Don't be stupid like that again," was all she said, her eyes were penetrating through his own with a look that could kill if she wanted to. She was in no mood to argue and it didn't take a prodigious genius to figure that out by the demeanor on her. Rather than fighting against her like he first wanted to, Richie chose to stay put with the others, but like Ben, he didn't let go of the stone in his hands either.
"Got yourself a boyfriend, Hayes?"
Though it was intended to mock her, Cassie wouldn't let it get to her. What he was telling her didn't affect her to the point where she let it get to her, because she knew he was just fucking with her. Bowers was petty like that. Instead, she chose to turn the tables back at him and make it laughable. "So what if I have?" Then, she proceeded to grab Richie by his shoulder and pull him into a side hug, her left arm was hanging over his shoulder whereas her cheek was firmly pressed against Richie's.
The latter was visibly caught off-guard by this sudden impulsive act and didn't know how to respond, but Cassie kept the confident smirk plastered on her face like she always did. The rest of the 'losers', however, were staring at them with a mixture of both bewilderment and confusion, as was Bowers and his friends. Cassie was feeling quite proud of her achievement. "That's more than you'll ever get." She said, grinning slyly towards him. Richie, however, was internally freaking out. This was the closest proximity any girl had ever been at with him, except his mom. Even that was too much.
"Didn't know you had a thing for losers."
"Try looking in the mirror for a change, Bowers," she replied wittily, pulling her free arm forth and gave him the middle finger. "As far as I can tell, you're the biggest loser around this place."
She was becoming cocky, they all knew that. The Hayes girl did have her moments where she was actually quite imaginative with her sarcastic demeanor, but there were the occasions where it went too far. She knew it as well, but she showed no signs of quitting anytime soon. It didn't matter to her like it did to everyone else, but it should've. At least, that became the one thing she regretted as she felt a sharp sting on her forehead out of nowhere and knocked her back onto the ground.
Richie fell with her but was lucky enough to get up before he too hit the ground. The rest of them were quick to come to her aid and try to see if she was seriously hurt, but judging by the small line of blood from the left side of her forehead, it was obvious that Henry had not been less than strong when he threw it. Cassie pulled herself to her knees with her hands and felt her head spin around like she had stuck on a carousel for far too long.
Placing a hand on her forehead, she drew it across her skin until she felt the Warm substance on her fingers. As she drew it back and got a view of the blood on the tip of her fingers, it was obvious that she was pissed. It had been less than a day, and she had already three new wounds on her face. One from crashing into Mike earlier, the second one from Henry himself, and now another one from said asshole.
Bill got to her side and grabbed her arm, prepared to pull her up, but gave him a reassuring look and pulled herself up from the floor without his help. She wasn't weak enough to need the aid of others to get to her feet, but that didn't make her any less infuriated. "That does it." She whispered to herself, but they all heard it. She brushed off her clothes and bent down to grab one large-ass rock from the ground.
Henry had less than a second to think before the same stone went flying in his direction, successfully hitting him in the same spot on his forehead where he had hit Cassie. He almost fell back and would've had not Vic and Belch supported him in the nick of time.
"That's for Beverly and the home-schooled kid," she mumbled darkly and grabbed another one from the ground, one which was smaller in size but not intentionally.
"I thought you said not to do anything rash," Ben said as he and the rest of them started to prepare themselves for a very, shocked, very angered, Henry Bowers.
"I changed my mind." Was all she said, and as quick as that, the rest of the Bowers gang started to prepare themselves for the upcoming battle. It was now finally time for the 'losers' to take revenge on the Bowers gang for everything and everyone who had ever suffered beneath their weight, even if throwing rocks didn't appear to be the most mature way to do it. They didn't care.
This meant war.
"ROCK WAR!" Richie let out a battle cry, but in an instant, a rock hit him in the head and knocked him backward in similar manners like earlier.
And just like that, a full-fledged battle broke out between the opposing groups. Henry Bowers and his said friends against the Losers. It was hard to throw and dodge at the same time, but they somehow managed and there rained rocks everywhere on either side.
Richie quickly got on his feet with the home-schooled kid and they both joined in on the fight without wasting too much time. In spite of his size, Richie was surprisingly flexible in his arms and was easily able to hit both Vic and Henry without missing too many times.
Cassie felt foolish for having started the fight in the first place because of her inability to handle an injury like a proper adult, but at the same time, being finally able to take her anger out on Bowers proved itself to be relieving. It had unknowingly been something she had been yearning for since she last encountered them on the Fine Diner.
Not to state that the Losers were the winning team, even though they were successfully able to hit the Bowers gang more than a few times, they too suffered from some hits and were sure not to make it out if there without a couple of bruises. Each of them with their own.
It was worth it.
"Piece of SHIT!" Cassie shouted vengefully and grabbed one rather large stone from beneath her, tightened the grip on it, then threw it straight towards Henry again. Judging by how quick he moved around, like a frantic monkey in a circus, she thought it was about to miss the place where the sun never shone for the boy. Surprisingly enough, on cue, he unconsciously moved directly to the right spot.
As soon as it hit him where it was intended, the Bowers pissant's face churned to a satisfying expression and he fell a couple of feet back, holding his crotch in pain and agony. That was a moment she never wanted to forget. "How's that for 'asking nice'?" She shouted at him and prepared to throw another rock, this time at Vic, who was too occupied with aiming for Richie beside her to even notice.
Eddie suddenly jumped forward into the water and started screaming as he consistently threw rocks at Belch. Though the sight of how amused he looked like screaming like a barbarian, she resumed with her intended target and was just about to throw.
A shit-load of rocks from Ben, Mike, Bill and Stanley's simultaneously hit Henry where he had been standing and the bully fell to his ass on the ground and shielded his face as well as he could with his arms. The image was similar to a child sulking in the corner of his bedroom. Truly gratifying to watch.
A couple of rocks from Belch hit her in the stomach and her legs, successfully providing her with pain and inevitable bruises, but nothing which she would allow to keep her down. When she looked up again and prepared to throw at Vic, she watched as he was already on his way of running out of there like the coward he was.
Beverly threw the last couple of rocks on Belch and the fatass took the same cue as his blonde friend and made his way out of there, not even looking back at Henry before they scrambled out of there.
All that remained was a very pride-wounded, very pathetic-looking, Henry Bowers. He seemed to shock to even move.
Cassie growled and prepared to stomp over towards him, a rock held firmly in her hand. It was never for her sake that she had initiated the rock fight in the first place, nor did it bring her any personal pleasure to know that they had been successful in defeating the Bowers gang and proven their strength. As difficult as it seemed to admit it aloud, it was because of her friends that she had thrown the first rock at them. Bowers had put them through more than she had witnessed for herself, and the mark on her cheek didn't even matter. Nothing which had occurred to her mattered. What he had suffered now wasn't close to enough.
But just as Cassie's feet had reached the brim of the waters, Beverly knew her intentions and quickly raced over to her friend. "Cassie, don't!" she wrapped her arms around her from behind and just barely managed to keep her from continuing, but Cassie didn't want to stop.
"Let go of me," she replied coldly and tried to force Beverly off of her, but she was surprised to discover how strong she truly was.
The Marsh girl still didn't let go. "He's had enough. It's over. Let's just go."
"No," The Hayes girl shook her head and tried to pry her arms off her. "He deserves more than this. After what he's done to you guys, I'll make sure he gets it."
"He will," Beverly countered, pulling her a step back from the water. "But that's not for us to do. He's already finished. You're no better than him if you do this."
It took a couple of seconds, but the Marsh girl's words sunk into her. Cassie slowly realized that she was right. Beating Henry when he was already at his lowest wouldn't undo everything he had done to them, even if it would grant her just the tiniest amount of satisfaction, it wasn't worth it.
The rock dropped from her grip and she shook Beverly off her, casting a last glare Henry's way before she turned around and followed the others out of there.
One thing was for sure, though. Had Beverly not stopped her, Cassie would've possibly ended him.
One after another, everyone left until only Richie remained. Deciding not to waste the opportunity, he turned to look at Henry and shouted as loud as he could. "Go blow your dad, you mulled-wearing asshole!" He proceeded to give him both fingers up before he left to join the rest of his friends.
"Thanks, guys, but you shouldn't have done that." Mike said as they walked through the meadow below the train rails. The echoes of the passing carts caused the weeds to bend in the same direction as the wind. Though he was grateful for having been saved by his new-found friends and all, he feared for their safety now more than his own. A quality of protectiveness he had inherited from his mother. "They'll be after you guys too now."
Needless to say, his warning didn't do much to impress them. "Oh, Bowers? He's always after us." Eddie assured him and looked back at the home-schooled kid with a friendly face.
"I guess that's one t-t-thing we all have in common." Bill agreed with Eddie without much seriousness.
"Yeah, home-schooled, welcome to the Losers' club." The rest of them laughed at Richie's commentary, everyone except Cassie, who still had her mind deep into thought about what had happened earlier. She had the power in her hand, the self-proclaimed right to play God and provide Henry himself with a good beating, and the thought of that still scared her.
She was never violent to the degree where she physically beat people up just for the sake of revenge, at least not like that.
"You okay?" Richie turned back to look at her and she snapped out of her thoughts. "I'll be honest, you look like shit."
She chuckled. "No more than you, Trash mouth."
"Ha ha ha, very funny." He commented with a sneer and turned back to the others.
"By the way, Cassie," Stanley turned to look back at her. "What did you do to their car?"
"What do you mean?"
He gave her an unimpressed look. "I saw you take something before we left to help Mike."
Everyone else turned to look at her with curiosity written over their faces, and that's when Cassie pulled out the car keys from her pockets and grinned. "Oh, this?" She toyed with it in her fingers, swinging it around her left index finger. "I don't think Huggins will mind if I borrow them for a little while."
"Holy shit!" Richie yelped. "You seriously took them?"
"Took what?" She asked innocently and put them back into her pockets."
"How should I know?" He nodded approvingly at her while the others just sighed. "So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?"
"How about we go eating?" Beverly suggested.
Nobody disagreed.
And like that, the Losers club was established.
Everyone eventually returned home, and like always, Cassie walked with Richie to the same street. There was an awkward silence lingering in the air, but not because they wanted to. Richie had attempted to strike up a conversation, but the Hayes girl's replies were either short or nonexistent. He didn't know what had gotten over her, whether it was the story with the clown that still frightened her or if it was that she had to return home to where she had encountered it.
He wanted to sympathize with her, he really wanted, but he knew he couldn't. Richie still thought it to be odd that they had all seen something whereas he hadn't. How was he supposed to know if it was real when he was the only one who hadn't seen it?
"I could've done it, and would've," she finally said something, but it was related to a subject he didn't know about.
Richie glanced at her to the side. "What do you mean?"
"I could've hit him with that rock earlier, and that's the scary thing," she said, not looking at him even once.
Realization finally hit him. "You mean that about Henry?"
She nodded in reply.
Richie honestly didn't know how to respond to that. He had never been fond of Henry Bowers. Hell, he even cursed his names a couple of times and wanted him to die, but he never thought that someone the same age as himself would even have the balls to go through with it, much less Cassie. He knew that the Hayes girl was a tough nail, but even so, being willing to take someone's life, much less bash his face with a rock, not for her own sake but for theirs, wasn't easily thinkable.
One thing was for sure though. "Wouldn't have mattered if you did it."
She finally mustered the strength to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," For once, he scratched the back of his neck. "You would've gone through a shit-load of trouble, but we would've still been friends."
"... Really?"
He nodded and nudged her in the rib. "Why not? Like I said, I think your soft side is showing."
She laughed, and for the first time, it wasn't a sarcastic one. "Thanks."
"Not to mention, didn't you say I was your boyfriend."
She instantly felt bashful. "... Shut up."
"No, really. I clearly heard you say-"
She hit him on the top of his head, not as hard as it could've been, but hard enough for him to shut up.
It was an odd feeling, but it was one she didn't want to disappear.
Cassie and Richie finally went their separate ways and they bid farewell. For some plausible reason, she walked at the slowest pace she could in order not to return home any sooner than she wanted to, and she didn't want to at all. The images were still running vividly in her mind, and it took her every inch of strength not to let the chills run up her skin at the reminiscence of what she had seen.
The blood. She could only pray that it didn't stay stuck on her floor like it had to Beverly's bathroom. If she had to see that for each day she lived in that damned house, without being able to convince her parents that it was real, she didn't know if she could bear it.
Sooner than she wanted, she finally arrived in front of her house and stood there for what felt like minutes, just standing there with her eyes stuck to the front porch. The same door where she had seen the damned clown, the wretched thing. The lights were on inside, and since it wasn't very late, she could only guess that her parents were home. A part of her hoped for that. At least it was preferable to the clown. Anything was.
Taking a deep breath, Cassie slowly walked up the steps to the entrance door and finally opened the door, letting herself inside. "Hello?" She called out, waiting for a reply. The odd thing wasn't that she didn't receive any, but there was a clear humming coming from inside her living room. It belonged to a woman, surely her mother, but why wouldn't she reply if she heard her daughter calling?
She hesitantly stepped inside and shut the door behind her, locking it. Though she didn't really want to, she knew her mother would demand answers as to where she had been the entire day, and she would have to answer them if she wanted to get away with as little punishment as possible. She slowly walked through the living room door and found her mother sitting on the couch, singing to herself whilst knitting what looked like some sort of blanket in bright colors.
Cassie didn't know which was oddest. Her mother at home or the fact that she was smiling while knitting? Claudia didn't even say anything, much less acknowledge her daughter's presence.
"Uhm, mom?" She called uncertainly, waving her hand up as if to gain her attention.
Albeit she didn't look up, Claudia replied. "Yes?" There was nothing more, not a scream or a demand for her earlier whereabouts. Nothing at all. Her eyes were solely glued to the blanket she was knitting in her hands.
"Sorry I wasn't home," was all she could say. The situation was both strange and awkward. "I was sleeping over at a friend's house."
"I didn't notice," Claudia replied tonelessly, still not looking up at her.
Cassie blinked flabbergasted. "You're not mad?"
"I don't care," she said. "You can do whatever you want."
Claudia then resumed with humming on the same melody she had when Cassie first walked inside the house.
"There once was a Crooked man,
Who walked a crooked mile.
He found a crooked sixpence,
Against a crooked stile."
Cassie didn't stick around long enough to hear her sing the rest of the nursery rhyme. There were more than just a few things that were out of place in her home, but she didn't want to investigate any further and quickly headed up the stairs to her room. When she went inside, she was cautious and scanned each crook of her room, beneath her bed and inside her closet. She didn't find any intruder or any clown for that matter, but that didn't ease her worries from her shoulders.
"I'm not nuts," she told herself and laid down on her bed, feeling drowsy. "I'm not nuts."
I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I will check it later, but it's late now.