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chapter six insist on your cup of stars
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Sometimes Jill Samson thought she was living in some kind of movie. Now, don't go rolling your eyes. At least hear her out. Because you see, Jill could complain and complain about how boringly ordinary she was, but she'd still be a cliche—a trope in some movie. After all, she was head over fucking heels for her best friend who only had eyes for the boy next door. That was a cliche.
If she were in a movie, she'd have to guess it wouldn't turn out exactly how the audience hoped it would. Deep down, she knew movies were just movies and in the end the actors didn't stay kissing in the rain, they walked off the set and drove home. She wanted her life to end as the credits rolled, but she knew better than that. She had wished on too many shooting stars to know exactly how fair the world was to girls like her. She knew she wasn't the lucky one, she was the one that got shoved to the side; she was the forgotten one. And she was certainly not the one going to get the girl.
The movies lied to you, the girl didn't end up with the best friend, she ended up with the hero. Jill Samson was not a hero in any sense. If anything, she knew she was more of a villain than a knight in shining armor. Bill Denbrough, on the other hand, was the golden boy; the boy you rooted for; the one that got the girl. His name would be remembered while Jill's would be lost somewhere at the bottom of the credits.
Jill felt like a supporting character in some film from the sixties as the group peddled closer to the Hanscom residence. She hated that feeling. But at that exact moment, Beverly glanced over her shoulder and gave her a smile, so she didn't feel completely awful. Bill, on the other hand, seemed to be displeased with this and took it upon himself to peddle closer to Beverly. Jill narrowed her eyes at him. What a dick.
Ben interrupted her glare as he yelled over his shoulder, "Here it is."
A quaint house came into their view as they peddled closer to their destination. Bill was the first to arrive seeing as he peddled faster than Ben just to get to the house faster. His long legs carried him up to the Hanscom residence's front porch as he waited for the rest of the group to hop off their bikes and join him. One by one the rest of the group hopped off their bikes and trickled into the small house. Jill was the last to throw her bike onto the sidewalk, alongside Stan, who had waited for her before hopping off his bike and kicking out the stand to stabilize it.
