𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕠

𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓

Stu Macher would never get used to the feeling of his hand on Casey Becker's waist. It felt foreign and awkward, like two puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit. She was talkative, tiny, and generally naive. She was no different from his other girlfriends. Manageable. Easy.

He kept them for a few months before eventually breaking things off with some petty excuse. Football, usually. Or his grades. No one questioned him when he claimed to be failing one class or another when he secretly excelled in almost every subject.

Besides, they never meant much to him other than serving the one purpose that mattered — keeping up an image.

The girls helped him blend in. Like living, breathing camouflage. The jock and his conventionally attractive cheerleader date got invited to way more parties than not. But Casey Becker wasn't a cheerleader. Not even close. In fact, she brought something even more valuable to the table.

You.

"(Y/N)!" Casey squealed, shrugging out of Stu's arms to run over and greet you as you exited your sixth-period classroom. He watched from across the hall as you eased into her embrace, feeling the familiar urge to dig around in his backpack for his trusty camera. It was a habit he wouldn't soon grow out of.

Stu let the two of you talk for a minute, watching you smile wearily and stifle a yawn as you shoved the rest of your massive textbooks into your backpack. He let himself observe you for a moment longer before shaking off his adoring stare and slinking over with his usual shit-eating grin.

"Ladies," he purred, replacing his arm around Casey's shoulder so that the three of you could continue walking out toward the courtyard. Stu tried not to stare as you joined hands with his girlfriend, blowing a strand of hair out of your eyes. You'd just finished your final midterm of the year and your gaze was dull from a week's worth of all-nighters.

It irked him how effortlessly angelic you were — with your hair messy from falling asleep in study hall and the sleeve of your oversized Friday The 13th t-shirt falling over your shoulder. When he first realized how much of a horror nerd you were, he practically imploded. Gorgeous, funny, and a fan of watching people die on screen? You were the total package. Like Randy but much less punchable and way more fuckable.

Don't tell Billy he ever said that.

"I hope you didn't forget about tomorrow night," Casey winked as you stepped out into the courtyard. "I convinced Randy to hold a new release for us. Bride of Chucky or whatever."

Stu's chest fluttered when you smiled at her sleepily, scrunching up your nose in response. "Sounds tacky, I love it."

He squeezed Casey's waist a little tighter as they walked out onto the sidewalk. It was instinct at that point, showing a little more affection to his actual girlfriend whenever he thought much about how he wanted you instead. Like snapping a rubber band against his wrist.

"How come I'm never invited to these things?" Stu fake pouted, curling his bottom lip and batting his eyes down at you.

You looked up at him, doe-eyed and not nearly as confident as you had been two seconds prior. You weren't friends with him yet. He'd just started dating Casey a few weeks ago. He was still a stranger to you; some dude with a massive ego and a sick sense of humor. But to him, you were everything under the sun.

Stu would coax you out of your shell eventually. Soon it would be you hanging off of his arm instead of her, he just knew it. "Hm, sweetheart? Where's my invite?"

"Please don't call me that," you groaned. 

Stu cocked his head to the side, slipping out of Casey's arms without a second glance to walk backward in front of you, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. "Oh yeah? What should I call you, sweetheart?"

You pretended to think, tapping a finger under your chin. "I dunno. How about my name?"

"Pfft, that's boring."

You shot Casey a pleading look and she tutted, smacking Stu playfully on the arm. "Knock it off and quit teasing her."

"What-hey!" He chuckled nervously as she grabbed you by the elbow, tugging you further down the sidewalk and toward Casey's new white Lexus parked in the front of the school. He didn't want to know who's dick she had to suck to get the best student parking lot. But then again, maybe he could use it as an excuse to break up with her in a few weeks.

"I was only joking, babe!"

You turned around and stuck your tongue out teasingly, leaning into your friend's shoulder as you walked. God, how did you not know that you were killing him?

"(Y/N)," Stu begged in a sing-song voice, trailing behind you on the walkway. "I was messing around. Don't be like that."

Ignoring him, you whispered something to Casey and she laughed into her hands. The sound made Stu's jaw tighten. He should be the one laughing with you. Not her. Not anyone else.

With his girlfriend's back turned, he glared daggers into her short blonde hair. She'd have to go sooner than he thought. It was a shame, too. She wasn't nearly as bad as the other girls' he had toted around that year. But he wasn't a giving person and he didn't take kindly to sharing you with anyone else.

He wasn't like Billy. At least, not entirely. He couldn't imagine killing anyone, let alone enjoying it. But recently when the two boys got to talking about the plan, he figured it didn't sound half bad. He didn't want to end someone's life. But if that someone was Casey Becker, he'd plunge an ice-pick between her ribs in a heartbeat. Especially if it meant getting his hands on you. 

(A/N: This chapter is criminally short. And before I get comments on this, I know that Bride of Chucky came out in '98 and this is set in '95. My bad. It's interesting writing in Stu's POV for so long. Difficult, but interesting. The next chap is a flashback in Billy's POV so look out for that. Thanks for reading! Really appreciate it. OH ALSO - before I forget - there's a song on this playlist called Sweet Talk and it's literally this chapter. The vibes fit perfectly and it's even in Stu's POV and everything. Bye for now!!)