"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°•°
With my uncle gone and no other family to speak of, I was placed in Derry's foster care system. The house was loud and unfamiliar, but a small, stubborn part of me was grateful. I was still in Derry. I was still close to my friends. I was still close to Eddie.
Eddie's mother was... tolerating me. She had no choice but to accept that I was a permanent fixture in her son's life, though the pinched look on her face whenever I came over made it clear she still wished I would disappear. I didn't care. Seeing Eddie was worth a thousand of her disapproving glares.
The weeks that followed were a blur of police stations, formal statements, and a stark, intimidating courtroom. I testified against Henry, my voice shaking but clear. He was sentenced to life, a cold justice for the horror he had inflicted. A part of me was shocked he had survived the fall down the well; the boys had been certain it was a fatal drop. It seemed evil, in all its forms, was hard to kill.
We all bore the physical reminders of that summer. Bruises faded to yellow-green, casts were eventually removed, but the memories were etched deeper than any scar.
One afternoon, we gathered in our field-the field by the Barrens that had always been ours. We sat in a loose circle, the seven of us, the silence between us comfortable and heavy with unspoken understanding. I held Eddie's hand, our fingers laced together, and every so often I'd catch his eye and send him a small, reassuring smile.
"I can only remember parts," Beverly began, her voice soft. "I thought I was dead. That's what it felt like. But I saw... I saw us. All of us together, back in the cistern, but we were older. Like our parents' ages."
A shiver went through me. I had seen something, too. Visions of a future where the fear never ended, where I watched everyone I loved be taken from me, over and over. It had felt like my own personal hell.
"What were we all doing there?" Bill asked, his curiosity piqued.
"I just remember how we felt," Bev murmured, pulling her knees to her chest. "How scared we were. I don't think I can ever forget that."
The air grew solemn. Then Bill stood up, brushing the grass from his jeans. He found a shard of glass from a broken bottle nearby, holding it up to the light.
"Swear it," he said, his voice low and fierce with determination. "Swear if It isn't dead, if It ever comes back, we'll come back too."
One by one, we stood. Bill went first, drawing the sharp edge across his palm without a flinch. He moved around the circle. When it was my turn, I winced as the glass bit into my skin, a sharp, clean pain that felt like a promise. After everyone had a bleeding cut, we joined hands, completing the circle and the oath. Our blood mingled, a pact sealed in pain and loyalty.
"I gotta go. I hate you," Stanley said to Bill, but there was no malice in his voice. The two of them stared at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter, the sound breaking the remaining tension.
"I'll see you later." "Bye,Stan."
It wasn't long after that Eddie and I got up to leave. His mother had him on a strict curfew until his arm was fully healed. "Bye, guys," Eddie called out. We walked away, our hands still linked, swinging gently between us.
When we were a good distance away, the figures of our friends small in the field behind us, Eddie stopped. He turned to me, his face serious, an internal battle clear in his eyes.
"What's wrong, Eds?" I asked, my heart giving a little lurch.
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't a kiss born of panic or distraction like the ones in the sewers. This was soft, sweet, and full of a tenderness that made my knees feel weak.
When he pulled away, I was breathless. "What was that for?" I whispered, my forehead resting against his.
"Our first two kisses happened when one of us was in danger," he said, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. "I just... I wanted this one to be remembered as our actual first kiss. A good one. A normal one."
I felt a wave of affection so strong it stole my breath all over again. I cupped his cheek, my thumb gently stroking his skin. "It's perfect," I whispered, and I pulled him in for another one, sealing the promise of a future we had fought so hard to have. It was a kiss of peace, of safety, and of a love that had faced a monster and won.
