your love // stenbrough

1

Stanley Uris stood outside the front door of his house, tapping his foot impatiently. He checked the time on his phone's lockscreen for the fifth time in ten minutes, huffing loudly at his friend's obvious tardiness. He scolded himself, knowing he should've just walked to school, like he did every other day.

Just as he was about to give up and begin his Monday morning trek to school, his thoughts were interrupted by a series of loud honks.

"Stan the Man! Hurry the fuck up would you?" Richie Tozier yelled from his 'new'
beat-up truck. He had just gotten it the previous day, and was eager to show it off. Stan didn't know why; it was an ugly piece of junk.

"You're going to make us late." Beverly Marsh said to him from the passenger seat as Stan walked up to the hunk of silver scrap metal.

"Yeah, I'm the reason we're going to be late." He grumbled to himself sarcastically as he pulled open the back door of the truck, which creaked on its hinges, threatening to fall off completely. "This is a real piece of shit, Rich." He addressed the other boy.

Richie feigned a look of shock, before turning and stroking the old dashboard. "Shhh," he whispered soothingly to the vehicle. "Stan didn't mean it, baby. You're gorgeous."

Bev let out a laugh, before turning around in her seat to face Stan. "We call her Angela." She said as she caressed the old and torn upholstery lovingly.

"Shut up and drive." Stan scoffed, tugging on the worn seatbelt and buckling it. There was no way he was going to let Richie drive him around without some sort of safety harness.

"Fine, but I'm making you apologize later." Richie said as he switched the gears and stepped on the gas. Stan let out a groan.

"To the truck? You're going to make me apologize to your fucking truck?"

"Her name is Angela." Bev replied. "Please be respectful."

Richie turned the wheel, blowing a stop sign. Stan sighed loudly, thankful that there were no other vehicles around. "If you keep driving like that, I won't even be alive to apologize."

"Sorry Staniel, my eyes are broken." Richie joked, looking at Stan in the rear-view mirror and pushing up his glasses. He took both his hands off the wheel, narrowly missing a pedestrian.

"Please just watch the fucking road." Stan said, gripping the seatbelt tightly. He had absolutely no clue how Richie had obtained a legal driver's license. His friends just laughed.

Bev began fiddling with the truck's stereo.  "Does Angie have any tunes?" she asked, turning almost all of the dials until she found the right one. An old 80s pop song blasted from the speakers and Richie started singing to the music, whilst simultaneously closing his eyes. Stan leaned into the front of the truck and reached for the proper dial, turning it off.

"There's no way I'm letting your singing be the last thing I hear before I die." Stanley stated, completely serious.

"Oh shut up." Richie said, pouting. "I'm not that bad of a driver."

Bev laughed obscenely. "Richie, you've earned six tickets in the past 5 minutes." Richie flipped her off as he started drifting into the wrong lane.

"Whoever tested you must've been drunk." Stan muttered from his position in the back.

"Fuck off." Richie grumbled, fixing his road position after almost hitting an approaching car.

"Hey, do you guys want to do something this weekend?" Bev asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one, holding it between her fingers and taking a drag before letting her wrist hang out the open window.

"Hell yeah!" Richie cheered. "Let's do something fun."

Stan loved hanging out with his friends but he wished they'd do something memorable for once, instead of just going to the Aladdin or hanging out in Richie's basement. "Sure." Stan replied casually.

"Cool." Bev said, taking another puff of her cigarette. "My aunt's out of town on Friday, so we can hang at my place."

"Sounds like a plan." Stan said, flipping through his phone absentmindedly.

"Can we invite other people?" Richie asked. Beverly and Stan both looked at him funny. Their small group had always been a trio. They never invited other people.

"Is this about that girl you were telling us about?" Bev questioned, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. Richie hesitated.

"No." He replied with a blush.

"Wow, I can't wait to meet her!" Bev said excitedly, then she shrugged. "I'll probably invite a couple people too." Stan sighed rather loudly.

"I hate parties." He said blatantly. Stan wasn't a people-person and the other two knew that. It had taken months for him to warm up to Richie and Beverly and even still, years after becoming friends, he's a little more reserved than they'd like him to be.

"It's not a party unless there's alcohol." Richie shot back suggestively, winking at him in the mirror.

Stan groaned. "Richie, I swear." Bev just laughed as they pulled into the student parking lot, where Richie double parked, skimming the paint-job on a neighbouring car.

Stan was very eager to escape the death-trap, grabbing his binders quickly as he scrambled out of the truck. He only had a few minutes to get to first period anyway.

"Run Stan, run!" Bev called to him jokingly as he jogged to the front doors. She was in no rush to catch up. There was no doubt in Stan's mind that she and Richie would ditch first period to smoke, just as they did nearly every morning. Stan was definitely the most punctual out of his friends and he would never skip class, much to their displeasure.

He walked down the deserted hallways, stopping at his locker briefly to grab his AP Chemistry textbook, before making his way to the Chemistry lab. He sat down at his desk merely moments before the bell sounded, and he let out a sigh of relief.

He reminded himself to never rely on Richie and his stupid fucking truck ever again.