A week passed, and none of them had heard from Eddie or Richie.
"He's dead isn't he? Richie fucking killed him. He's out there, lying in a ditch somewhere, with fucking maggots eating his eyeballs."
They were all out at the Barrens, finally getting some fresh air after days of not leaving their houses, not wanting to risk a missed phone call.
They were all worried, of course, but Stan seemed to be the one most willing to show it. He had been pacing back and forth basically since they arrived, shaking hands held behind his back.
"Does no one else care? Eddie's been murdered! And we just let him golike a bunch of sociopaths!"
"Shut it Stan, he's not dead." Beverly was standing by the water's edge, attempting to skip rocks but failing. Bill was sitting beside her, watching Stan out of the corner of his eye but making sure not to make eye contact.They hadn't actually spoken to each other since the day after Betty Ripsom's party, not that anyone in the group had noticed. "We've known Richie for years, remember? He's our friend, he wouldn't murder Eddie."
"I dunno, didn't he move away for like ten years? That's a long time, he could have become a murderer." Ben said, pulling up blades of grass and flicking them at Mike. Bev glared at him.
"Oh my god. He's right. Richie planned this. He only came back because he was looking for someone to murder, and we just handed him a victim. Fucking hell, guys what do we do?"
"Stan, jesus christ," Bev walked over to him and grabbed his shoulders so he stopped pacing, "Eddie's fine."
"How would you know?" Stan was almost panicked to the point of crying. His eyes were wild and his hair was dishevelled from running his hands through it too much. He looked like he hadn't slept all week (and maybe he hadn't, he sure had plenty of things going through his mind that would keep him awake).
To be completely honest, Beverly didn't know. Not hearing from them had her immensely worried, and in the back of her mind she couldn't help but think the worst, that maybe they were dead or hurt or they had broken down in the middle of nowhere, miles away from any help. But she kept her composure. It wouldn't do any good if they were all freaking out over this, so she forced herself to be the voice of reason. And she truly did trust Richie, he had been her closest friend all those years ago.
"Look, this is Trashmouth Tozier we're talking about, remember? He's not going to hurt Eddie, unless you can die by annoyance, god forbid." Stan smiled for a second at that, but only for a second. She reached up to put her hand on his cheek. "He's okay, Stan. I promise you."
Stan leant into her touch, putting his own hand on top of hers, feeling significantly calmer than before. She grinned at him and went back to sit next to Bill.
They all stayed out for the majority of the day, and as always they stayed relatively grouped together, at least making sure they were within eyesight of each other. But Beverly and Bill had seemed oddly removed from the others, always sitting a bit away from them, just far enough that they could talk between themselves without anyone hearing.
Stan tried not to make it obvious that he noticed, but he wasn't particularly good at subtlety, and Mike confronted him after catching his staring for the umpteenth time.
"Dude, what's up with you? You're so out of it today."
He was sitting cross-legged with his elbows resting on his knees and one hand holding his head up, frowning as he watched Bill and Bev having a conversation that he couldn't hear on the other side of the stream.
"What?" he turned his head towards Mike, Ben lying down next to him with his head in his lap. "Nothing. I'm fine. I'm not staring."
"Really? Because I'm pretty sure you haven't listened to a thing we've been saying for the last twenty minutes," Ben sounded more worried than annoyed (but he still sounded a little annoyed), "and you're either staring at those two or there's a very interesting bird over there that we can't see."
"Sure I have, you're talking about, uh, that History thing. In the library. The book with the history in it. And like I said, I'm not staring at anything."
"We were actually talking about the new Star Trek episode, but nice try."
"Oh, well I haven't watched it yet."
Stan started fidgeting with a loose string on his jeans. Ben and Mike looked at each other, then back at him.
"Seriously, what's wrong?"
"Nothings wrong! Maybe I'm just, I don't know, a bit worked up about Eddie, but I'm fine!" Stanlaughed nervously, eyes darting between them. Ben sat up so he was properly facing him.
"Stan, you now you can tell us anything, right?"
Stan threw his head back in an exaggerated groan.
"For the last time, there's nothing to say! Nothing is wrong! I feel great, actually, never been better." He put on a fake smile that made him look more sick than anything else. "So we're dropping this, okay? What were you talking about before? Star Wars? Let's keep talking about that."
"Star Trek, Stan."
"Whatever."
"Okay, well, we were talking about how in the new episode there was this..."
Stan sat, watching Mike's mouth move, but not hearing any of the words he was saying. His impulse control quickly ran out, and he glanced at Bill and Beverly again. They were sitting with their knees touching. Bev was smiling and giggling at Bill as he talked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Stan scowled in disgust.
"And then Riker was like- are you fucking serious Stanley?!"
Stan snapped back to him, startled. "What? I didn't do anything!"
"You can't pay attention for three goddamn seconds, dude! You're obviously hiding something."
"I told you a million times, nothing is-"
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bill lean forward to move a hair out of Bev's face. As his hand lingered over her cheek, Stan felt like he might faint.
"You know what, I'm actually feeling kind of sick." He held his hand to his stomach and scrunched up his face in a poor acting attempt. "I'm gonna go home. I shouldn't have come out today, anyways. Might have missed a call from Eddie."
He marched past them to where they had left their bikes and picked up his own, flipping up the kickstand with his foot.
"Stan, you leaving already?" Beverly called out as he stormed pastthem, but he either didn't hear or he ignored her.
When he reached the road he got on his bike and pedalled as hard as he could, angry tears stinging his eyes.
"H-he's probably just s-still upset over e-Eds." Bill said as she watched him ride away.
"Maybe you should go check on him later, make sure he's doing okay?"
Bill's breath hitched in his throat.
"I'm sh-sh-sure he'll be fine."
Bev frowned at him.
"Bill, he's your best friend."
"W-well, he's one of my b-best friends. You're a-all my best friends."
Bev hit his shoulder playfully.
"Oh come on, we all know you like Stan the most," one corner of her mouth tilted up, confused by his sudden defensiveness, "it's okay to play favourites, no one's gonna get butt-hurt over it."
Bill's face turned a hot shade of pink.
"I-I-I d-don't play f-favourites. I d-don't like him a-an-anymore than I l-like – fuck – I d-don't – I don't h-h-h-ha-hav- sh-sh-shh-shit!" He buried his face in his hands. "C-can we s-stop talking about s-s-Stan for f-fuck's sake."
He felt Bev put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing her thumb in circles just above his shoulder blade.
"Did something happen? Between you two?"
"N-no. Yes. I-I don't w-want to talk ab-abuh-about it."
She wanted to ask another question, but the wavering in his voice made her stay quiet. Eventually he lifted his head, red imprints left behind where his hands had been.
"All okay?" she asked. Bill nodded.
"H-hey, I'm supposed t-to be babys-sitting Georgie tonight, c-can you come over?"
He usually asks Stan, she thought. "Yeah, I should be good to go."
"Cool," he flashed her a grin and looked over at Ben and Mike, who were now back to bombarding each other with ripped up plants. Ben copped a fistful of dirt in the eye and fell backwards, groaning in pain but still laughing.
An hour after sundown, Beverly arrived at Bill's house, and didn't bother to knock before entering. They all knew they didn't really have to knock unless someone's parents were home.
She walked into the living room to find Georgie beating Bill at a game of Battleship.
"What's the score, boys?" she teased, sitting down on the couch besides Georgie, the coffee table in front of them and Bill sitting on the floor.
"I've won twice already!"
"It's b-because he's ch-cheating," Bill laughed.
"Aw, come on Bill, don't be a sore loser," she put an arm around Georgie and pulled him into a side-hug, "this kid's just naturally gifted, right George?"
Georgie giggled and nodded proudly. Bill stuck his tongue out at them.
"Is Stan coming?" Georgie asked, looking back towards the front door.
Bev shot a questioning glance at Bill. He swallowed hard.
"H-h-he was b-busy," he lied.
Georgie pouted, and then went back to studying the board game, tapping his chin as if in deep thought.
"B4?"
"Seriously!? How did you sink me again!?" Bill threw his hands up in defeat. "Alright, you win, let's do something different."
"Like what?"
Bill looked around the room, searching for inspiration, but nothing caught his attention.
"We could just put on a movie?" Georgie slumped his shoulders at the suggestion. Beverly interrupted before he could complain about how boring that would be.
"I have an idea."
Soon they were up and gathering every sheet and pillow they could find and piling it all in the middle of the living room. Bill had moved the coffee table off to the side, and grabbed the chairs from the dining room to hold the sheets up like a tent, while Georgie and Beverly were laying pillows out over the floor and creating a nook for them to sit in.
They adjusted and moved things around for a while, following Georgie's instruction on what needed to go where, and when they got his absolute approval they all crawled inside. Georgie sat in between the two of them, admiring the cave they had constructed, and begged Bill to tell a story.
And he did. It was a story about a band of great heroes, who fought against an evil monster. He put on voices and acted out gestures, and when he got stumped Georgie would tell him what happens next, and he would build on from there. He barely stuttered the whole way through.
He never said it, but in Georgie's mind, he saw the characters as Bill and his friends.
Beverly listened, Georgie leaning up against her, feeling nothing but love in her heart as the words poured from his mouth. She had never heard him like this, so sure of himself, not tripping over his tongue or becoming breathless when the sentences wouldn't come. She was awestruck, his voice wrapping itself around her and spreading warmth throughout her body.
By the time the tale had ended, Georgie had lost out his battle against sleep, so Bill carried him upstairs to his room. He had always been smaller than most other kids his age, much shorter than Bill had been at twelve, but as he laid there, curled up on his side under the navy blue duvet, he looked younger than ever. Bill was transported momentarily back in time, when they had been blissfully unaware of the rest of the world, their biggest problems back then would seem like nothing now.
"They're real cute when they're asleep, huh?"
Beverly walked up behind him and put her chin on his shoulder. He let out a soft laugh under his breath.
"It's t-too bad he'll w-wake up."
She slapped him playfully on the shoulder and leant down to kiss Georgie on the forehead.
Downstairs, Bill made a move to disassemble their construction, but Beverly stopped him.
"Oh come on, we spent like an hour on this thing. May as well keep it up until morning."
So they crawled back inside and sat in silence for a while, leaning up against each other. Bev though Bill seemed somewhat distracted, like his mind was far off somewhere else.
"What are you thinking about?" she whispered.
"Nothing important."
"Is it about Stan?"
No response.
"Bill I'm worrie-"
She was cut off by Bill's lips against hers, his face too close to look like anything more than a blur. She could feel a chill running down her spine, suddenly so much more aware of how quiet the room was, able to make out her heart pulsing in her ear. But before she could comprehend what was happening, it was over, and Bill was staring at her, searching for some sort of reaction. But she didn't really give one, just stared back, mouth slightly parted, no movement bar her chest slowly rising and falling.
And then he did it again, more intently this time. She tried to kiss back but couldn't seem to figure out how to, every time she would try something it just felt awkward. His lips were cold and weirdly dry, and there was something about they way he was doing it that made it feel too forced, like he didn't really want to but he was doing it anyway.
Beverly had kissed people before, she kissed her friends all the time, but nothing further than a quick peck. And there had of course been junior prom with Brad Haynes, where he had kissed her after driving her home, and it had been wet and sloppy and she shoved him away after a few seconds, patted him on the shoulder and never spoke to him again.
This was different. This was Bill, and he didn't seem to know what he was doing.
She wasn't sure if she really liked him like that. Sure, she had thought about it, and there were times when he was giving a long-winded speech or poking his tongue out in concentration as he sketched, where she had found herself thinking about what this moment would be like. But then again, she had also thought that about Ben. And Mike. And even Richie, that one time back when they were kids, but that dream was crushed forever when she saw him drop his sandwich into the dirt and then pick it up and continue to eat it. She had mulled over the idea of what it would be like to kiss all of them. But it was never any serious thought, and in reality, she would have never initiated anything. They were her friends, and she would have been content with that for the rest of her life.
He kept on, though, even as she didn't kiss him back, awkwardly placing and replacing his hands places, unable to make a decision, face, waist, shoulder, waist, face, shoulder, knee, waist, to the point where she had to grab his shoulders and push him away.
"S-s-sorry, did you n-not w-want t-"
"No, it's okay," she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't offend, "I just- Bill, I don't know if I-"
"Y-you d-don't like m-me." He looked taken aback. Surely that had been flirting earlier at the Barrens. Surely she had liked me. I was sure of it.
"Bill, come on, I-"
"I-I th-thought, w-w-with a-a-all of th-the-"
I need this to work out, Bev.
"You're my best friend, and I-"
I can't do this.
"-I just don't want to ruin that, if-"
Straight boys don't-
"-if I lost you I would never forgive myself-"
Straight boys-
"-and I don't know what to do, Bill."
Straight-
He was staring right through her at this point, the words she was saying muffled and unorganised in his head, overpowered by his own thoughts.
"I have to go Bill, I'm sorry."
And suddenly she wasn't in front of him anymore, though he couldn't recall actually seeing her get up or leave. He felt drunk, like the world was moving a million miles an hour beneath him, but he was frozen in place.
He couldn't bring himself to walk up the stairs to his own bed.
That night he couldn't stop thinking about Stan.
Straight boys don't.
Obviously not.