Summer Child [Stenbrough]

0.5

                    • In which Stanley Uris gets a call •

   It was two months later, early December now. It was a Saturday evening, the stars already dim in the sky. Stan sat at his desk, tapping his pen against a mug of peach tea softly. He was deep in thought, thinking about his essay for English that was due in a week. His life hadn't changed much since October, he had eased out of his depression state a little more and was doing ok most days. Eddie and Richie had gotten together a week before Thanksgiving, something everyone saw coming. Stan did get a bit jealous watching them kiss and hold hands, still secretly wishing that that was him and Bill instead.

   Bill and Bev were still going strong in their relationship, they had their fights but that was normal. Stan peeked out of his window and saw that Bill's fan light was on. He grew curious. In all their years of friendship, Bill never had the fan light on. Always a lamp or nothing at all. He wondered if something was wrong, but ultimately chalked it down to overthinking. He took a sip from his mug and got to work on writing a rough draft about pollution and how it affects people and the environment. A few minutes later, his phone rang loudly.

   He got up and grabbed it, expecting a spam call. But Bill's contact name ran across the screen, and he got surprised. Bill almost never called him, usually only hung out with or texted him. He answered and held the phone up to his ear. Through the speaker crackled Bill's sob-filled voice. "S-Stan.." Stan instantly got worried. "Bill! Are you okay??" Bill stifled another sob unsuccessfully. "C-Come over, p-please..I need to t-talk to s-someone.." Stan pulled on some jeans and one of Bill's sweaters that he gave him once. "I'm coming!" He hung up and slipped on his neater pair of Converse. He silently went downstairs and ran across the street to Bill's house.

   He was very worried about him, he ran in their front door (normally, Bill's parents didn't care if he did so). He noticed Bill's mom sitting at the table with a stoic expression. His dad was crying softly into his hands, his wife's hand on his back. They took no notice of him as he ran upstairs quickly. He got to Bill's room and saw that the light was now turned off, the only light coming from the dim moonlight streaming through the window. Bill was crumpled on the floor, a mess of clothes and tears. Stan sat next to him and pulled him onto his lap.

   "What is it, Bill? What happened..?" Bill sniffled and Stan felt a tear drop onto his jeans. "It's G-Georgie.. He's d-dead.." Stan felt his heart drop. "W-What? How?" Bill got up and faced Stan. "He w-was playing outside, a-and wandered into t-the road..the c-car didn't see h-him.." Stan put a hand on his shoulder and hugged him to comfort him. "It's a-all my fault, I should've b-been watching him.." He cried into Stan's shoulder softly, Stan soothing him gently. "It wasn't your fault, Bill. I'm here for you." Bill got up and stared into his eyes.

    Lips met as he pushed himself forward and took Stan by utter surprise. Bill's hands rested on his jaw, as he kissed back and fireworks exploded in his stomach. It was only them in their own world as Stan put his hands on Bill's waist and smiled. He had waited for years for this, with only pain and tears to fall on him. They kept their lips together, then Bill broke the kiss. Realization struck him as he remembered his girlfriend of three months. "Get out, Stan." Stan's heart dropped for the second time that night. "Leave my house."

Stan's eyes filled with tears. "W-Why?" Bill felt furious at the boy sitting beneath him. "I have a girlfriend! I just fucking cheated on her!! With a dude. I can't be gay! Get out, Stanley, and don't come near me or my girlfriend again." Stan's heart broke and shattered again as he smiled painfully. "Okay." He got up and ran, sobbing as he went. He paid no mind to anyone as he ran, running back across the street and back up to his room. He cried, sobbed, and screamed as the weight of his burden came back. Tears ran down his face and left tracks, made silver by the moonlight. He grabbed his guitar and notebook and began to write a new song. About this moment, about every moment he'd cried about Bill.

He strummed his guitar lightly, his fingertips barely touching the strings. He began to sing softly, sobbing again. The verses came out in choked sobs and a quiet voice.

"I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater
You said it looked better on me than it did you
Only if you knew how much I liked you
But I watch your eyes as she walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave me your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
Wish I were Heather.."

He strummed the last few notes as the song he wrote came to an end. He sobbed again, wondering what he did wrong. He grabbed his laptop and logged onto Instagram. He made a post saying that he was signing off for a little bit because of some personal issues. He said the same thing on his other socials. He shut it off after 15 minutes, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He wanted to cry, but had no more tears.

    "Where did I go wrong, universe?"