loser (stenbrough)

Five

    "hey! mr. denbrough. over here, please."

    i looked up from the notebook i'd been so deeply invested in for all of class, gaze focusing on our gym coach. coach hanson was your typical chad kind of guy, a kind of person i didn't get along with too well.

    for the entirety of gym they made me sit out, just because henry had put me in one of those stupid gray boot things. i'd spent a few days in the hospital before they let me out, which i felt was pretty unnecessary. they could've just given it to me and sent me on my way. still, coach wanted to talk to me, and even though i knew i couldn't be in trouble for anything, i didn't want to talk to him. i slipped my notebook in my backpack and hoisted the thing over my arm, wondering just when it had gotten so heavy.

    he wanted to talk to me about the henry bowers situation. he said it was a real shame he hurt me, that henry bowers was no good, and i was a pretty good kid in his class. he always wanted me to join track, he bugged me about it more toward the beginning of the school year, and he definitely wasn't afraid to bring it up again. even though i was injured. obviously i declined- but he kept at it, saying once i recovered it would be a good "opportunity" to get involved in exercise.

    i was fine with baseball over track, thank you very much.

    still, he was the only teacher that even wanted to talk to me about it. most of the other ones asked how my leg felt, but none of them commented on henry or asked to hold me after class. not that i wanted any of them to. i just found it stupid.

    i made my way to the locker room, remembering some dirty gym clothes my mom wanted me to bring home so she could wash. she made a big deal about me bringing them home the night before, so i made sure to actually remember this time. that was when i heard a voice- er, two voices. stopping in my tracks, i stood there and listened, hoping neither of them would walk around to see me. the voices belonged to richie and eddie.

    "hah, whatever, eds. so you're coming this saturday? your mom will let you? if you say it's bill's house she probably won't fuss too much."

    this saturday was richie's birthday. i clenched my jaw, eyes dead set on the chipped gray paint on the lockers ahead of me. richie told me he wasn't celebrating his birthday, because it was apparently lame to him now, and he had to go visit "relatives." just what i thought. i took a risk and moved closer to the corner, peering my head so i could see. eddie had his back to the lockers and richie was in front of him, that stupid asshole grin of his still on his face.

    "yeah. yeah, i'm totally coming," eddie said back,smiling up at richie. eddie's emotions were usually pretty easy to read. he didn't look like he was faking a smile or simply just "having to deal" with richie, as i sometimes put it to beverly. he looked pretty excited for whatever the hell they were planning on saturday.

    i walked back to my locker and spun the combination lock. so what if they heard me? i wanted them to hear me. to know i had witnessed their little conversation, that eddie was going to richie's house. who knew? richie could've asked beverly and ben to come, too. that would've left me out of the group. alone, to sit at my desk that saturday, doing homework, reading books, and wondering how richie was dealing with his "relatives." i was suddenly glad the coach held me after class. if he hadn't taken forever to urge me to join track after my leg healed, i wouldn't have hung around to see the two of them.

    it really pissed me off. in the losers club, we weren't supposed to have "best friends." we weren't supposed to pick sides. this was a complete betrayal, and it made me want to murder richie. seriously murder him.

    i noisily opened my locker, the eerie sound of metal scraping on metal. richie and eddie had stopped talking, which had to mean they were done talking. or even better, they heard me. i took my dirty gym clothes- which were neatly tied in an ugly gray walmart bag, and slammed my locker shut again.

    "uh, hellooo?" richie asked. his shoes squeaked against the tile as he walked closer to me. i clicked my combination lock back into its place and turned to the door, getting out of derry high as soon as i possibly could. i didn't know where i was going, i didn't know why i was running, but i was. i needed away.