derry, maine | it imagines ✔️

41. welcome back - victor criss

Requested:
Yes: [✔️] ; by ShamelesslyEmma
No: []

Song?: No

a/n: requests are closed I have 4 to do and it's hard to make progress if I'm getting a ton of requests. It just causes me stress bc I feel like I have to do them every day just so they're out on time. so I'm sorry if you have a request that you haven't given me yet but it will have to be after I open requests again.

"Get up, Emalea, before I drag your ass outta bed myself," Patrick Hockstetter groaned at his younger sister. The girl sat up in bed before flipping the boy off, to which he scoffed and left the room.

Emalea mumbled curse words under her breath, angry at her brother, as she pushed herself out of bed. She took a deep breath, standing in the middle of her bedroom, trying to calm herself down. "Just remember what you learned," she whispered to herself.

It was the first time in three years that Emalea had been in Derry. After an incident involving vandalism and a small fire in the girls' bathroom at the local middle school, her parents decided it would be best to get their daughter help for her anger issues. They sent her to a reform school, making her leave them and her brother as she moved halfway across the country.

The teachers at the reform school decided that she improved enough to be sent home, and she said goodbye to the place she had lived for three years. So much had changed. No one remembered her, that, or they didn't recognize her. She did get older and more mature looking, plus, her septum piercing was a more recent decision.

Since her parents felt she needed a fresh look at the town, they had asked, or ordered, her brother to show her around school and the town after it ended. Patrick had not been very keen on the idea, but gave in, reluctantly.

Emalea changed into a pair of jeans and one of her brother's old band shirts, tucking it into her pants. She pulled on her converse before adding makeup to the look. She quirked on of her eyebrows and smiled as she looked into the mirror, her brown eyes catching the light from her window.

Grabbing her bag, she ran downstairs to the kitchen. Her mother had left her some toast on the table, since she had already left to go to work. As she picked up a piece, Patrick stomped in, taking it from her. "No way," he told her, putting it back down on the plate. "We gotta leave now, so hurry the hell up. Henry's waiting."

Emalea glared at him but followed him out the door. She hadn't met any of Patrick's friends before, but he told her a bit about them. She ignored what he said though, since he wasn't a reliable source of information.

Patrick walked through the grass to a blue Trans-Am parked on the side of the road. Three boys all greeted him as he climbed into the back. The one who was driving had a hat on, shading his rounded face. The one in the passenger seat sported a mullet and a nasty look on his face. The last, who sat in the back, had bleach blond hair that could be spotted a mile away. They were all staring at her. "Hurry up, dipshit! We haven't got all damn day," Patrick shouted to her.

Emalea rolled her eyes before walking over to the car. "Where am I supposed to sit?" she asked, pinching her lips together considering no one was making an effort to move.

The boy with a mullet spoke up, after looking her up and down. "You can sit right here on my lap," he smirked with a wink.

Patrick was about to say something, but Emalea beat him to it. "No, thanks, sorry," she started, scrunching up her nose, "I'm not really into the whole 'sitting on another girl's lap'. It's totally fine if you are into that though." The boy gave her a strange look. "Oh, oh no. You're not a girl. I just assumed you were an ugly one because of," she paused. "That thing," she pointed to his mullet.

The boy narrowed his eyes as Patrick and the blond boy burst out laughing in the back. He turned to face the front, before mumbling, "Just sit in the back."

She stepped up and climbed into the back, sitting between Patrick and the blond boy. "That's Belch and Henry," Patrick whispered lightly to her, motioning toward the boy driving then to mullet boy. "And that's Victor," he jabbed his thumb in the direction of the boy beside her.

Emalea nodded, and there were no more words for the rest of the ride. She had caused silence between the boys. When they reached the school, Patrick showed her around, while the other boys just hung around and followed. She learned more about his friends, and eventually apologized to Henry, who waved it off, saying that she was lucky she was Patrick's sister. She could tell that there was more to that than just what he said, but she didn't push it. Patrick kept her close by, giving death looks to any boy (there were a lot) that looked at her in a way he didn't like. She only rolled her eyes at him.

After school ended, the group drove toward the library, where they parked and began walking around town. Patrick pointed out places that Emalea had forgotten about, and it was like walking through her old memories. She couldn't help but have a small smile on her face as her brother brought up stories of when they were younger and how they'd use to hang out in one place or another. It was nice to see him act more like a brother than he sometimes did.

While they were walking, Emalea lagged behind, getting interested in a jacket that was on display in one of the shop's windows. As she admired it from the outside, she got shoved to the ground, hitting the sidewalk roughly as she landed on her back. "What the fuck?" she blurted.

A group of four girls stood above her. "Who do you think you are, you little shit? Leaving town for three years then coming back like you own the place? Acting like you run the school with all the guys staring at you? Looking like some punk ass slut when you're hanging out with the Bowers Gang?" The voice was all too familiar.

"Greta," the name came off Emalea's lips like poison. The girl smirked, her murky green eyes narrowed at the black-haired girl on the ground. "How funny. You never changed. Once a bitch, always a bitch."

Greta's lips curved into a snarl and she reached down to hit the girl. "I don't think that's such a good idea, now, is it Greta?" Emalea's eyebrows raised when she saw Victor holding onto the girl's arm, stopping her. "I think you should leave or maybe I'll tell Patrick you're messing with his little sister."

Greta's face paled, knowing that Patrick came with Henry, and that was not something she wanted. She ran off, her group following her. Victor smirked before offering a hand to Emalea. She gladly accepted, and he pulled her off the ground. "Thanks," she told him.

He shrugged. "No big deal," he replied. "You okay?" When the girl nodded, he continued. "Greta is a bitch. She does this to any girl she thinks is better than she is. Which means she does it to every girl," he chuckled at himself. "Come on, your brother's looking for you," Victor walked up away from her, leaving her a few strides behind. He stopped, then turned. "Oh, and Emalea," the girl raised her eyebrow. "Welcome back to Derry."