loser (stenbrough)

Two

   a presence was leaning over my shoulder, watching me work on the packet that our geometry teacher, ms. verona, gave us. i hated geometry, as i did all math classes, but this one was slightly better than algebra. i pretended to not care for a couple seconds, but when their breathing started to bother me, i knew it was richie. he was either cheating or trying to creep me out. "would you s-stop?" i nudged him in the chest. i didn't care if he cheated, because he'd have to count the grid anyway.

   he did his usual snicker and sat back down. "so, um... what's your plan for the fight with, uh, bowers? because you're dead meat, big bill." richie's face had suddenly turned serious, which was a definite warning sign.

   i turned in my seat, giving him a look. "why are we... deciding to fight him?" i had no reason to be involved with henry bowers, and if you wanted to, you were just asking for it.

   "we?" he asked, a look of amusement on his face. richie shook his head and looked at me. his eyes were... hard to read. "nobody told you? seriously? jesus..." richie was tip-toeing around whatever he was implying, but why he wanted to fight henry bowers on his first day back was beyond me. "it's not me, big bill. he wants to fight you. after school. i heard some juniors talking about it. how have you not heard?" and then he laughed, like it wasn't my life on the line.

   "wh-why the hell is he tuh-t-trying to fight me? i didn't do anything!" i said in defense, a pit forming in my stomach. i had been trying to avoid stanley all day, and now i had bowers to worry about too? i looked back at richie, trying to tell if he was being serious or not. but i wasn't sure he'd joke about anything like this.

   richie shrugged. "he might think that you snitched. you know, last year. when he spray painted the back of the school. he's a real idiot, you weren't even there to see him do it."

   i shook my head, my geometry homework seeming a lot less important now. not that it was in the first place, anyway. i needed a plan. "you're not going t-tuh-t-to help me, are you?" i muttered, putting my head in my hands. my sophomore year was starting to be a shit show.

   "i don't know how i can help, bill," he answered, now looking down at his green mechanical pencil. richie was screwing around with the lead, pretending it was a syringe and pushing it into his skin. "i mean, best you could do is hang around with a teacher and get a big group to walk you home. bowers isn't scared of me and eds." he was being honest. and i guess that's what richie is best for.

   "yeah, that would be a good idea." would. if i could find a big group to walk me home. my mind thought back to stan. he was a junior, but i didn't know what he looked like. i hoped he didn't know what i looked like, either. maybe he wasn't intimidating at all. but surely, he'd know someone who did look scary, right?

   something about richie caught my attention. he was acting different. nothing i could really put my finger on, but something was definitely off. i couldn't tell if it was good or bad. maybe wentworth had cancer again? no, that couldn't be it. he would tell me. richie would definitely tell me about that.

   that meant it was something richie tozier had to hide.

   the bell rang, and i was thrown into a sea of rambunctious high schoolers walking home for the day. i wasn't sure what to do. richie's idea of talking to a teacher until i got to the front doors seemed smart, until i realized i didn't have much to talk to them about. grades? we didn't have any posted yet, it was the first week. maybe walking home normally with richie and eddie was my best bet, if i had any bet at all.

   my mind went back to stanley, but goddamn it, i didn't want to meet him today. it would be too stressful. i couldn't explain why, but i was just dreading us finally meeting up. we had talked so much over the weekend, and it felt like he knew me better than any of my other friends- eddie, beverly, or even richie. but if he actually met me, and knew what i was like, i wasn't sure i would be able to handle it if he suddenly stopped talking to me.

   is that what i was scared of?

    i didn't have time to think. someone was talking to me. a tall guy. i was out of it, though, and it took me a second to adjust. it was a tall, intimidating black guy. stan was definitely not black. and neither was henry bowers, so i wasn't too cautious of him to start off with.

   "hey- hey! are you that bill kid? the one henry bowers wants to beat up?"

   my arms felt numb. so that's what it was about. "i'm bill," i mumbled, not caring if he heard. yes, i was bill. something occurred to me, though. if he was asking who i was, that meant he wasn't on bowers' side, right? he must have wanted something else.

   "oh. well, where is he? you don't know, do you?" he smiled at me. not a mischievous one. a genuine one, from what i could tell. i couldn't tell much, since i was bad at reading emotions.

   i sighed. "i-if-" oh god, the stutter. the stutter was back. "if i knew, i wouldn't be wandering around the h-hu-halls like an idiot. i'd be running the other way." there were still a lot of kids rushing past us. i hadn't noticed it, but the black guy and i had stopped next to some lockers, facing each other. chatting. he didn't seem like a bad guy- i just didn't know his intentions. "why? friend of yours?" i asked, a bitter look on my face.

   "hell no. i'm gonna beat his ass. don't worry. not just me, a couple of my other friends too. you'll be the bait- reel him in- and then you run for it." he turned me around and nudged me forward. this was seeming very obviously like a trap- this guy and his friends were going to surround me, promise me safety, bring me to bowers, and then everyone was going to jump on me at once and kill me. i looked around, i needed an exit. an escape.

   luckily there was a fire exit to my right, a little down the hall. past some stairs. if i could outrun this black guy (who was probably on the football team, jesus christ help me), and run all the way home without my lungs collapsing, it would be a miracle. but i would be safe. a real stretch of logic, and part of me was wanting to trust him. but...

   "what's your n-nuh-name?" i asked. i wasn't sure why, maybe i just felt like throwing him off. making him feel like we were going to have a whole chat.

   we weren't.

   "mike," he grinned, holding out his hand to shake. he acted how people do when talking to distant relatives at funerals. unnerving. i flashed a quick smile, and dashed down the hall, pushing past a girl and darting straight to the exit.

   i heard the clank of the door shut behind me. where was i going? home, of course. but which way was that? i was behind the high school, somewhere. i could always run in front of the school, but bowers could see me...

   the woods. through the woods. i booked it down the hill, remembering the trail richie led me through when we went to derry middle school. when we wanted to sneak around the high school during the summer at night, when nobody was there. it was a weird experience, walking up and down the halls, thinking this will be my school someday...

   the distance wasn't too far, not as far as i remembered it being last time, but that was probably because we had to stop every few minutes in fear of someone catching us back then. this time, i was dodging branches, praying i didn't get my foot caught in some tree root. this time, a black guy named mike was hunting me down, trying to lure me into bowers' trap.

   this time, i was in danger.

   i got a sudden feeling, an impending sense of doom, so i looked around the woods in a frenzy. i looked behind me.

   nobody.

   i knew mike (or someone else) had opened the emergency exit behind me, because i heard the loud metal clanking noise the door made when i had left the school. but whoever had opened it either wasn't fast enough or didn't care enough to catch up with me. which was slightly relieving. unless...

   they were watching me.

   i knew this place.

   it was right near my house- specifically, behind david hartwell's house, but i didn't know that kid too well. i thought back to my house- i would be able to make it, wouldn't i? i had a bad feeling that henry bowers was waiting somewhere in my neighborhood, with his switchblade in hand, waiting for my arrival.

   i couldn't just wait here. actually, i could. but my parents would get worried...

   then i got an idea.