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Bill threw himself next to Stan's locker, making Stan jump a bit. Bill giggled as Stan shut his locker, spinning the lock.

"Geez, Stan. C-Calm yoursss-elf."

"Don't slam yourself into the lockers, maybe?" He gave Bill a stern look, but both of them knew he didn't mean any harm.

"Wh-whatevvv...er. You're c-coming over, right?"

"Yeah, who said I wasn't?" Stan adjusted the backpack he was wearing higher up on his shoulder. "How's Georgie?"

Bill shrugged. "G-Georgie. He got Lll-Legos."

Stan nodded. "Got it. So, shoes on, whole time?"

Bill laughed, nodding. "Yeah, shhhh-sure."

Stan agreed to spend the night at Bill's tonight. It was the last day of school, and they were as excited as ever.

They've always had each other's company, though it seemed they could never get enough. From their first encounter in kindergarten, they've never not had each other's company. It began when their teacher, who neither boys could remember her name anymore, had given everyone a "Merry Christmas!". And Stan had to say that he doesn't celebrate Christmas, and Bill, with no stutter apparent yet, asked, "No Christmas? My dad says that's called 'Jewish'. I think it's a sick." And their teacher had to remind him that, "No, Bill, being Jewish is not a sickness," but Stanley just laughed. Later that day, Stan went to his parents and said that this kid named Bill called him a sick, and neither Urises knew what that meant.

"You know that Tozier kid? One with the glasses?" Stan asked. Bill nodded. "Yeah. Kid wouldn't shut up in English. Like, shit, man, we get it."

"Shucks, Sssstan. Cut him some s-ssslack." He looked around and behind them, seeing the boy in question talking to another boy much shorter than him, and he leaned in close to Stan as if afraid they would hear. "I hh-heard he's a bit of a ssss-sspaz."

Stan shrugged, walking out of the school building. "Spaz or no, kid needs to learn to shut his mouth."

"Hey, cut it, Uris," a voice called from behind. Stan whipped around, and the boy was staring straight at him with a dumb smile on his face. "If you don't, I'll just have to cut it myself. Nah, wait, that already happened, right? You're a Jew?" The shorter boy punched his shoulder a bit, hissing, "Richie," as a warning.

"Just because I'm Jewish doesn't mean I'm circumsised, Tozier."

"But you are, right?"

"That's none of your business—"

"Beep beep, Rich."

Richie and the smaller boy craned their heads, seeing a girl with fiery red hair that surpassed her shoulders. Bill knew this girl as Beverly Marsh, and had a raging crush on her.

"But, Bev–"

"No 'but's–"

"He called me a spaz–"

"Well, you are." She smiled and flicked the space between his eyebrows. She reached Stan and outstretched an arm, offering a hand shake. "Beverly Marsh."

"Oh– uh," Stan took her hand and gave it a firm bounce, readjusting his backpack again with his free hand. "Stanley Uris."

"Oh, yeah, we're in... uh..." Beverly scratched her head in thought, eyebrows furrowing together.

"Biology. You sit next to that Ben kid, right?"

"Oh, yeah! Yes, I do." She turned her gaze to Bill, as if just discovering his presence. She probably did. "Hey, Denbrough." She ruffled his hair, and it left the most dumbfounded smile on Bill's face Stanley had ever seen.

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⏰ Last updated: May 13, 2022 ⏰

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