"I've realized that..." he started, then took a shaky breath. "Earlier today, when Stanley pulled you aside... seeing you two so close and secretive, I hated it." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I don't like how others make you smile..." He traile...
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°•°Vanessa's POV°•°
I was sitting on the curb outside Eddie's house, the sun-warmed concrete rough through my jeans. I wasn't allowed inside. Not ever. To Mrs. Kaspbrak, I wasn't a girl; I was a contagion, a terrible disease that might infect her precious Eddie-bear. I wasn't even permitted to stand too close to their front door. The irony was a bitter pill: of all the boys, I just had to fall for the one whose mother saw me as a walking biohazard. How it happened, I wasn't even sure. It was just a quiet, persistent truth that had taken root in my chest. Mike was the only one who knew, a secret whispered in confidence that he’d guarded fiercely.
The front door finally creaked open, and the boys spilled out, their energy immediately filling the quiet street.
"Could you guys have taken any longer?" I asked, my voice a hushed whisper.
"Why are you whispering?" Eddie asked, blinking in the bright sunlight before his eyes darted nervously back to his house. The realization dawned on him. "Oh."
*~*🎈*~*
We stood at the edge of the Barrens, the entrance to the sewer tunnel yawning before us like a dark, wet mouth. Stanley, our resident naturalist, was pointing at various clumps of weeds with grave authority.
"That's poison ivy," he declared, pointing to one. "And that's poison ivy. And... that's poison ivy."
"Where? Where's the poison ivy?" Eddie freaked out, immediately starting to scratch at his arms as if he could already feel the rash blooming.
"Nowhere. Not every fucking plant is poison ivy, Stanley," Richie said, pushing his glasses up his nose with a sigh.
"Language!" I scolded him automatically.
"You're one to talk, sweetcheeks," Richie muttered under his breath, probably thinking I couldn't hear him. I chose to let it slide.
Bill and Richie were the only ones brave—or foolish—enough to actually step into the murky water flowing from the sewer. There was no way I would ever take a step in there. It was a swirling, opaque grey, and the smell was a physical presence.
"Okay, I'm starting to get itchy now, and I'm pretty sure this is not good for my—" Eddie was cut off by Richie.
"Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?" he asked, a glint in his eye. I could see he had it out for Eddie again.
"Yeah, sometimes," Eddie admitted, wary.
"Then you probably have crabs."
"Richie, you're not funny, even if you think you are," I snapped, a flare of irritation burning through me. I was tired of his constant, sick jokes aimed at Eddie. He’d tried his luck with me once, back at the beginning, but after I’d punched him hard in the shoulder and given him a very clear, very graphic warning about what I’d do to certain parts of his anatomy if he ever tried anything again, he’d left me strictly alone.
