From Sweethearts to Soulmates [A Stanford Pines x Reader]

Chapter 5

We all sat quietly, Stan playing video games, Ford on his top bunk reading what looked like a Quantum Physics for 8th Graders book and me on a beanbag in the corner reading my book. I finished a chapter and looked up, placing the scrap of paper that served as my bookmark between the pages and stretching out my back.

I glanced up to the top bunk to see Stanford looking down at his hands, he looked upset. I balled up a piece of paper, throwing at Stan, hitting him in the chest. He looked offended for a minute before I pointed up to Ford and he nodded solemnly.

He got up, tapping his twin's leg that was sitting over the edge of the bunk. Ford came down the ladder and stood before us, his eyes cast to the floor. Stan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Don't let those idiots get to you." Ford looked at his hands then to me and Stan.

"But I am a freak. I just wonder if there's anywhere in the world that weirdos like me fit in..." My heart was hit with a pang of sadness for this boy I'd just met. I liked his hands, and I thought he was really cool, but...

"Hey, chin up, buddy. Look." He dragged Ford to the bedroom window to look over the ocean, I followed but stayed a few feet behind them. Stan spoke the next sentence while dragging his hand through the air like he was smoothing out a rainbow. "One of these days, you and me are gonna sail away from this dumb town. We'll hunt for treasure, get all the girls, and be an unstoppable team of adventurers." Ford turned to him, hope filling his eyes.

"You really mean it?" Stans smile widened.

"High six?"

"High six." They high sixed each other while I watched from the side-lines, a small smile planted on my face.

I slept over that night, but we didn't go to sleep till super late (by our 10-year-old standards anyway). Stan was the first to pass out on his bunk as we pulled the covers over him. I was clad in a set of old flannelette pjs and I had to admit, they were comfy as all heck.

Me and Ford sat on the top bunk discussing everything from the book series I was reading to various conspiracy theories, until his eyes began to flutter shut. I wished him good night and climbed down as he pulled the blankets over himself mumbling a quick "Sweet dreams" before his breathing evened and he stopped responding.

Fatigue began to catch up with me as well as I curled up on the beanbag, the only thing they owned due to not having anyone who slept over, leaving my book on the floor next to me and my eyelids weighing themselves down so much I could no longer keep them open as I fell into a deep sleep, a smile still curled on my lips.

I nodded toward Stan and he continued his part.

"Those were the good times. Those bullies may have been right about us not making many friends, but when push comes to shove, you only need the close ones."

I picked up again. "You can probably tell the way these two acted in school..."

I was sitting a few desks down from the twins when they were called up to solve a problem on the board. Ford had an extremely complex equation on the board he was currently working out (way, way above primary school level, I might add), while Stan was sketching a drawing of our teacher, with horns and sharp teeth, that actually looked really good. Art was something both boys were surprisingly good at.

I laughed as the teacher looked at Stan like she wanted to rap his knuckles with the ruler within her reach. She instead hit him on the head, as hard as she was allowed to anyway. Stan rubbed his head and glared up at her, while Ford hid his laughter and I giggled.

And every afternoon we would grab a couple sodas and headed out to the beach to work on the Stan O' War. I was an art major in high school at the time, so I worked on the detailing. Stan did the heavy lifting and Sixer (as Stan affectionately called him) found any and all issues with the structure. Nothing could escape his watchful gaze.