"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°•*
Ben practically vaulted off his bike and sprinted into his house the moment we arrived, probably to frantically hide any stray underwear or other teenage boy detritus. "Don't freak out, just tell us," Eddie said as we finally filed into Ben's room, his voice a low, comforting murmur.
"Yeah, I heard he has a rollercoaster and a pet chimp and old guys' fucking bones," Richie stage-whispered to Eddie, earning a grimace.
"Yeah," Eddie replied, playing along for a second before realizing what he'd agreed with.
I reached over and slapped Richie lightly on the back of the head. "Why don't you stop believing every rumor you hear?" I snapped, though without real heat. My attention was already captured by the room itself. Ben's walls weren't decorated with band posters or movie stars; they were a sprawling, intricate mosaic of pictures, news clippings, maps, and handwritten notes. It was a command center dedicated to the dark heart of Derry.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wow," Richie said, his jaw actually dropping as he spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.
"Cool, huh?" Ben asked, a hint of pride mixing with his self-consciousness.
"No, no. Nothing cool. There's nothing cool," Richie denied reflexively, his eyes scanning the walls. He pointed a finger at a particularly gruesome headline. "This is cool, right here. Wait, no. No, it's not cool." His denial was a transparent lie; he was fascinated.
"Richie, can you stop being a cunt," I said absently, my own eyes tracing a timeline of disappearances that stretched back decades.
"What's that?" Stanley asked, pointing to a yellowed document covered in elegant, faded signatures.
"Oh, that? That's the charter for Derry Township," Ben informed us.
"Nerd alert," Richie chimed in automatically.
"No, actually, it's really interesting," Ben said, undeterred. "Derry started as a beaver trapping camp."
"Still is, am I right, boys?" Richie said, holding his hand up for a high-five. I simply pushed his hand down, shaking my head in fond exasperation.
"Ninety-one people signed the charter that made Derry," Ben continued, his voice dropping into a storyteller's cadence. "But later that winter, they all disappeared without a trace."
"The entire camp?" Eddie asked, his voice hushed.
"There were rumors of Indians, but no sign of an attack. Everybody just thought it was a plague or something, but it's like one day everybody just woke up and left. The only clue was a trail of bloody clothes leading to the well house." Ben explained.
A chill that had nothing to do with the room temperature crept down my spine. As Ben spoke, my eyes were drawn across the collage of images. And then I saw it. In an old, grainy photo of a town meeting, amidst the stern-faced settlers, was a face that didn't belong. A clown, its painted smile wide and malevolent, its eyes seeming to stare straight out of the photograph and into me.
"Jesus. We can get Derry on Unsolved Mysteries," Richie suggested, breaking the somber mood.
"Let's do that. You're brilliant," Eddie shot back, his sarcasm a weak shield against the growing unease.
"I might be," Richie replied, completely missing it.
But I couldn't join in. I was frozen. Now that I'd seen it once, I saw the clown everywhere—lurking in the background of a historical drawing, peering from a crowd in a newspaper photo from the 30s. He was a ghost in the machine of Derry's history, a constant, hidden specter. Those murderous eyes felt like they were piercing right through me, and the boys' bickering faded into a distant hum. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
A warm, familiar weight on my shoulder snapped me out of the trance. Eddie was looking down at me, his brow furrowed with concern. "You okay?" he asked softly.
I blinked, forcing myself to look away from the wall and into his worried eyes. "Yeah," I lied, my voice a little breathy. "I'm good."
"Where was the well house?" Bill asked, speaking up for the first time since we'd entered the room. His voice was steady, but his eyes were alight with a grim intensity.
"I don't know. Somewhere in town, I guess. Why?" Ben said, looking at Bill in question.
"Nothing," Bill replied, but the look on his face said it was anything but.
*~*🎈*~*
After we left Ben's house, the group gradually splintered off until it was just Eddie and me walking together. I could feel the nervous energy radiating off him again, a palpable tension that had returned now that we were alone. When we reached the crossing where we had to go our separate ways, I stopped and turned to face him.
"What's up?" I asked softly.
Eddie looked at me, and those captivating eyes of his were wide with a fear that had nothing to do with sewers or missing kids. I could see the gears turning in his head, wrestling with something huge.
"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 trailed off, looking horrified that he'd actually said it.
My heart did a crazy, hopeful flip in my chest. "Eddie Kaspbrak," I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Are you admitting you're jealous?"
He stared at me, wide-eyed, caught. Then, to my astonishment, he didn't deny it or make a joke. He just nodded, a single, jerky motion. "Yes, I am," he whispered, his voice gaining a sliver of courage. "Because I like you."
I was literally gaping at him. All the air seemed to have left my lungs. I had built up so many walls, convinced myself it was a hopeless crush, that his actual confession left me utterly speechless.
Eddie, seeing my stunned silence, took both of my hands in his. They were trembling slightly. He looked directly into my eyes, and his were filled with so much raw, vulnerable emotion it made my chest ache.
"Vanessa Bowers," he said, his voice firmer now, "will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"
"Eddie..." I finally managed to breathe out, my own voice barely a whisper. I was left speechless by this brave, wonderful boy once again.
Finding my voice, I squeezed his hands. "Yes," I said, a brilliant, unstoppable smile breaking across my face. "I'd like that."
A matching, relieved, and ecstatic smile spread across his face, brighter than I'd ever seen. I leaned forward and placed a soft, quick kiss on his cheek, feeling the heat bloom under my lips. We finally parted ways, and I walked the rest of the way home, a permanent, idiotic smile etched on my face, the world feeling suddenly and wonderfully different.
