After their oath, they went separat ways. Eddie was the first one to leave- Ben and Stan the last ones.
Bill and Bev were left behind, it kinda looked like they wanted to talk about something.
It took Stan and Ben a bit to leave the place- they both were in pain because of the slashed palm but non of them wanted to show it in front of the others.
"Well... this really hurst." Stan commented, pressing his hand into a fist to stop it from bleeding.
Ben nooded in agreement.
"Should we wait for Bev and bell?"
Stan stopped and thought about it for a brief second.
Then, he turned around to look what those two were doing.
And there he saw it.
Bill was kissing Bev- or the other way around. He couldnt see it clearly from where they were standing.
It broke his heart- to see him doing this.
But life wasnt like in his dreams. He couldnt wish for something that would obviously never happen.
At the same time he thought about Ben. How he loved Bev- it was obvious. What he would do if he would see this right now. If he would be equally broken- he clearly would be. So Stan just put a hand on his back and pushed him forwards.
"Lets go home. We'll see them tomorrow anyway."
They went back home. It was a long way home- at least it seemed like it.
Once Stan was alone in his room at home he let out a heavy sigh. Life wasnt supposed to be easy.
And unlike Richie, Bill wasnt into boys.
He sat down on his bed.
Would he still be able to look at his friend the same way he did before? And not having a childish flashback of seeing him and Bev kiss. It was childish. Was he getting jealous? Now?
The way Bill looked at him while cutting his palm- he though there was something special between them.
The look of horror on Bills face as Stan suggested they should slash their wrists.
He looked like he cared- but not in this way. They were friends. Nothing more.
At the same time, Bill was on his way home. The moment he kissed Bev was supposed to be something special- but it just felt weird. Like they both shouldnt be together this way.
He thought about thr moment he cut everyones palm.
He thought about the comment Stan made that they should cut their wrists.
The way Stan looked so dead serious saying this. The way Stan flinched. He was in obvious more pain than the others.
It broke his heart.
He disliked seeing his friends in pain.
But seeing Stan in pain- it tore him apart, deep inside his heart.
He was special to him. Stan was someone who would stand up for what he means, he would call Bill out for his sometimes reckless, stubborn behavior. For his bullshit. He would keep secrets. He would never betray them.
Bill never realised it himself but he relied on Stans words very much.
He sighed as he entered his room.
They shared something not even themselves were able to understand just now.
It was now in the middle of the early night.
Stan was lying on his bed, face pressed in his pillow- not caring at all that the wounds around his face were hurting, that his palm was burning.
He looked at the cut on his palm, in the dom light of the moonshine which shined through the window on his room.
He flashed back to Bills face, to the moment he whispered; asking if he would swear. To the moment he nooded- to the moment Stan agreed to something he would never do if it wasnt for Bill.
And then he felt something wet dripping down his face, staining the pillow.
Stan was crying- everything he bottled up the last few days just blurted out. Everything- especially ad he remembered the kiss.
He pressed his face deep down into his pillow, whimpering and screaming.
He was embaressed of himself.
Hopefully his parents wouldnt hear him lile this. He didnt want to explain to them what was up.
He didnt want to imagine how they would react.
He didnt want to feel like this- especially not in a town like this.
If they would find out he would be an outlaw. Feel like one.
They already made fun of him for other reasons so he had to hide this... at least the best way he could.
He fell asleep, dried tears on his face- sleeping on a wet pillow.
And the next morning he felt miserable. His head, his face hurt and of course his hand.
Stan stood up- to fast, it felt. He felt dizzy. He ignored that he felt like he was about to faint, headed to the bathroom, grabbed a bandage to fix up the cut.
It looked like he was alone- his parents were away. So at least he had some alone time until Mike would come to pick him up.
They wanted to meet up one last time before they would go on vacation.
He grabbed the bandage and fixed up the cut- he traced the wound.
He remembered his words "we should slash our wrists". He rememberd how he said it was a joke- but was it really a joke? He looked in the mirror, saw his eyes who were swollen from crying- even in his sleep.
It didnt felt like a joke to him. But he said it anyway to stop them from worrying.
He didnt want them to worry- especially not Bill. He had suffered enough the past weeks.
Later that day, Mike knocked on the door- Stan was back to his usual look. Eyes not swollen or red anymore. But he was still upset deep down.
And despite the fact that they just befriended this summer, Mike knew when something was up. When something was bothering him.
"Whats bothering you Stan?"
"Nothing. Everything is fine. I just had a... rough night. With my face hurting, and my hand."
The other one just looked at him for some seconds, understood that he didnt want to speak the real truth.
"Do you still want come with us?"
"Why not? It not I'm sick or something. Lets go."
So they made their way to the clubhouse.
And seeing Bill already sitting there, with the others, made his heart ache again. It still hurt.
Ignoring it the best way he could he made his way down the ladder.
Can you feel it
There's a shadow over this town
We try to shake it
But it keeps on coming back around
The devil's in disguise
Gonna make you choose a side