loser (stenbrough)

Six

That day, I decided to give up on Bill.

The idea that he would ever want to meet up with me just wasn't feasible anymore. We had met three weeks ago, and every time I asked, he declined- coming up with one reason or another to not see me. For a couple of days, he was in the hospital because of Henry, and that was fair. But everything else? It made me feel like he hated me or something. Even worse, we went to the same school. Bill could've always dropped by where I hung out with Mike and a couple seniors, but he didn't seem to want to do that, either. If we lived in different cities, maybe it would all make sense. But the truth was, we didn't. Both of us were situated here in Derry, Maine- the most boring city in all of America- and he just had to drag out the time between the two of us finally meeting in person.

I spent a long time trying to figure out why. It wasn't my personality. We talked a lot. We got along. He told me things that nobody else would know- unless he was lying about that too. Still, we were good friends. Was I annoying? No, if I was annoying he wouldn't have continued talking to me. Then I started to wonder if the problem was on his end. Maybe he truly just didn't have time to meet up, or maybe he was nervous. Nervous to meet me. That didn't make sense, because 1. He was always hanging around with that Richie kid. He even told me so in our messages. If Bill didn't have "time" to come over to my place, or he didn't have time for me to come to his, why was Richie the one exception? And 2. What was there for Bill be nervous about? I was nice, he was nice, we got along. I was just beginning to think that maybe... he had something to hide.

And then I saw him.

Or at least I thought I did. Just a boy that looked like him, perhaps. He was sitting a few benches away from me in the park, head down, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Maybe he was writing an angry letter to someone. I wanted to move closer, or maybe yell something, like "Hey kid!" But I didn't want to scare him off either. What if it wasn't him? How would I even excuse myself? "Hey, sorry, I thought you were my friend who doesn't know what I look like. Yeah, weird situation, well, see you!"

Then I remembered I had a way to check. Sure, I could ask him myself, or call Mike up to confirm I wasn't going crazy. But I had an easier way.

Check SnapMaps. It seemed dumb- he could have his location turned off, or just not have logged onto Snapchat in a long time. I decided to put my bird watching on pause and open Snapchat, sliding up and zooming in on Derry, Maine.

I stared at the screen with a slight smile on my face. It was him, it said the latest he logged in was 4 minutes ago. I got to the park fifteen minutes ago, so there was no mistaking it. Not a doubt in my mind. It had to be him. He looked almost exactly like he did in the yearbook.

Putting my phone away, I sat my bird book and binoculars on my lap and started to think. How? How would I build up the confidence to go and talk to him? How would I speak to him? "Hi, I'm Stanley and I know meeting is weird like this, but I forgive you for making up excuses every day for the past three weeks. Are you going to talk to me now or make more excuses?"

I studied Bill quietly, my mind trying to settle on one plan of action. My eyes travelled down, past his face and chest... his notebook. What the hell was he writing in that thing, anyway?