Bowers Gang X Female Reader

Beth Kennedy

Patrick was a jerk. Maybe even a bigger jerk then henry. He was rude, freaky and vulgar. 3 things i absolutly hated.

 I didnt recognize anyone i was seated near, but i also wasnt good with names or faces. For certain, non of Henry or Patricks friends where in my math. I wouldnt say i hated them because i knew what they tried to do was all in good fun, but i also had no reason to like them. In my opinion, Henry Bowers was a fraud. He wasnt as powerfull as everyone though he was. Not as scary, not as dangerous, not as deadly. 

And Patrick, i didnt like. He seamed perverted, like he was gross instead of cool or whatever Henry Bowers and his friends where perceived as. The worst thing about Patrick was how he touched my hair. I hated the way he touched my hair. It infurated me more then anything else he couldve done. Cody used to touch my hair like that. When i was nervous, hiding away from mom and dads fights. It was insulting for Patrick to do that to me even if he didnt know the implications. yet, Something deep down told me that he knew what he was doing.

Math was a boring blur. I didnt learn anything new from a lack of effort on my part; i was busy day dreaming about Cody and our old life. The bell rang and i realized again that i was the talk of the school and that i was likely going to be tossed around between friend groups until they all became bored with me. I got up from my seat and rushed off to the bathrooms. I would rather eat there then in the shark tank of a cafeteria. 

The bathroom was small and smelt vicously of smoke. The stalls where cramped, green and gross; all empty and open except for one. I took a place in the furthest left stall and pulled my lunch out. Brocoli, caprisun, and a tuna sandwich. 

I tried to eat but i wasnt really hungry. My stomach rejected every bite of the sandwich i took, so i drank the caprisun instead and sat with myself. The only thing  i craved was a ciggerette. A fat, foul smelling ciggerette. I didnt bring any myself, and i didnt want to ask the girl who had been smoking them, but i had no other choice. My craving was insatiable and i couldnt resist anymore.

"Hey." I akwardly mumbled to the girl next door. "Um.. Mind if i borrow a smoke? I can pay you back later if you want."

The girl didnt say anything at first. It was silent, and any sign that she had even been there ceased. It stayed that way for a couple seconds until her thin fingers reached underneath the stall. Her nails where painted a dark red; my favorite color, and her frail fingers rattled like an old womans. She was holding an untouched Marlboro in between her pale fingers. 

"Thank you." I sighed in relief. 

Still, she didnt speak.

I lit the cigerette with my black zippo lighter and took a long drag. Black, ashy smoke filled my lungs, causing me to cough up a couple times. Then, the girl spoke.

"Your new, right?" She said akwardly.

"Yeah. From Portland."

She paused, then spoke again. "How are you liking Derry so far?"

"Well.. Its alright." I coughed. "Im not used to such a small town. Im Beth, by the way."

"Beverly."

We talked for the rest of lunch, not about anything in particular. About school, home, and what it was to be a girl our age, but not once did i see her face. When the bell went i did too, while she stayed seated alone in the bathroom stall. I liked Beverly. She didnt seam fake and plasticy like alot of the girls in Derry, and she wasnt exactly identicle to anyone i had talked to before. I liked people like that, who gave me something new.