Stanley Uris, a boy with three secrets hidden beneath a thick sweater - one of them being his love for his best friend.
Bill Denbrough, a boy who spends every morning trying to convince himself he's not gay.
This is their tale, told through both of...
"I feel like I'm waiting for something that isn't going to happen."
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A week after the party, Stan found himself again talking to Richie about plans on a very similar, only slightly cooler, Friday afternoon.
"A sleepover?" Stan echoed doubtfully.
"Yeah! Just you, and Bill, and me."
Stan's throat became tight and sticky. He was choking, and yet he seemed fine. He was hurting, and yet all people saw was a shy boy.
"C'mon, Stanny! Don't be a party pooper." Wow, Richie was near pleading. It was a little bit pathetic.
But Stan did not want to be with Bill and Richie all night, loving Bill, hearing him talk about Bev, hearing Richie's dirty jokes that just made Stan an emptier and more shattered shell, devoid of colour and emotion, simply wishing Bill could hold him gently and tell him everything would be okay.
Stan's preferences did not matter in the game of hiding.
"Why only the three of us?" he asked Richie.
The other boy shrugged. "Why not? We're the tightest squad, aren't we?"
"Richie."
"What?"
"You and Eddie are closer than the three of us."
Is Richie blushing? His cheeks looks red...
The trashmouth simply gave another half-hearted shrug. "We're still a good squad. And if we're not, we'll become a good squad."
"Okay. Your house?"
"Yep. Be there at nine."
"Shit, I hope my parents say yes."
Richie licked his lips. "I'll make them."
Stan gave him a shove and then turned to go home when he walked straight (or maybe he walked gay?) into Bill. The green-eyed boy's warm chest knocking against his own sent chills crawling up Stan's spine and an ecstatic feeling creeping into his heart.
"O-oh, h-hey, Stan," Bill greeted, stumbling over his words.
Stan smiled, though he couldn't distinguish whether it was real or fake. He felt happy, he felt sad. He wanted Bill, he knew he could never have Bill.
"A-are you g-going to R-Richie's house to-tonight?"
Stan looked up, surprised to realize his gaze had been trained on his shoes. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm going to the sleepover. It's a Friday, so my parents will probably say yes..."
Bill nodded. "S-same." He narrowed his eyes. "D-does R-Rich know?"
Stan shook his head. "Don't tell him."
"I w-won't!"
"Thanks, Bill."
He smiled. It seemed sincere. That was one of the things Stan loved about him. Bill had been through enough tragedy and hardship, and he had come out on the other side still a warm and kind person. Stan wished he could smile that way. Bill was so...carefree. As if he didn't have any secrets.
