" LIPSTICK " + STENBROUGH

[38]

tHIS CHAPTER IS SO LONG OMG im sorry it's literally like 3400 words good grief have fun w this

cold air nips at his skin, as bill denbrough sits, wearing a thick jacket and scarf, hands rubbing together to create warmth, on the bleachers at a youth soccer game.

he watches his little brother run across the field, chasing the ball. he's kicking it towards the goal. beside him, his mother stands with the rest of the parents, cheering wildly for georgie. bill isn't, however—not because he isn't proud of georgie, or thinks he isn't doing well, but it's too cold and there's a blanket around his lap, a thermos between his legs, and a heavy weight that still sits anchored to his heart thanks to stanley uris.

with quick legs, georgie runs the ball to the goal, far ahead of the opposing team. the atmosphere of the bleachers is upbeat, it's loud and proud and spirited. it's everything bill isn't, honestly. although, he is proud of georgie.

he's even more proud when the boy takes his shining moment, and gives it away, passing the ball just before the goal to his teammate, charlie.

charlie is a dark skinned boy, with buzzed down hair and large brown eyes. he's spent most of the game standing off to the side, near the opposing team's goal. bill guesses he's trying to look like he's on offense, but as someone who did the same thing playing soccer in fourth grade, bill knows that's not the case. the boy has spent most of the game staring at passing gray clouds or picking up flowers in the field.

and when the ball is passed to him, he seems to panic slightly. bill can't make out what georgie is saying to charlie, but the grin on his face is priceless, as he points to the goal, motioning for charlie to make his way over and kick it in. as two members of the apposing team approach, running towards them, charlie begins dribbling the ball towards the goal, albeit uncoordinatedly, before kicking it in.

the ball just breezes past the goalie's fingers, slamming back into the net.

the crowd is cheering, even bill's mother ecstatic, even though it isn't her son who makes the winning goal. georgie runs over and tackles charlie in a hug, followed by their other teammates.

bill smiles to himself, because the energy around him is kind of catching on, the smiles contagious.

—

bill would be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to be anywhere else right now. he sits in a crowded pizzeria in town, the air bubbling with laughter, swirling with the scent of garlic and fresh bread, being squished on either side by two sixth grade boys eating their pizza like neanderthals. bill grimaces, unsure how it is that they've already eaten three slices each, and the pizzas only came ten minutes ago.

after their win, the team decides to go out for some celebratory pizza. bill tags along, even though he's drowning in makeup work from being absent for so long, after georgie all but begs him to come with. but georgie isn't even seated near bill, sitting several seats away, talking animatedly to charlie. he's not near his mother either, who is sitting at another table with the parents. instead, he's been shoved between a boy named ethan and a boy named griffin. ethan has chugged two glasses of mountain dew and is practically bouncing off the walls, while griffin keeps making farting noises with his armpit and has sauce all over his face.

bill looks dully at his pizza on the plate in front of him, with one small bite taken out of it. he isn't that hungry, mostly just sad, and he just wants to go home and sleep, do some homework, and try not to think about having to go back to school tomorrow and face everyone, his problems, and his grades, which are quickly plummeting.