the losers club-imagines [oneshots]

just a poem-s.u [I]

[third person] [lowercase intended] 

     stan woke up flustered. the dreams happened again; how couldn't they? he'd been dreaming about the same girl for days now, and yet he'd never seen her around derry. she was beautiful, and seemed to glide through the dreams effortlessly. she never said anything, but he could still see her right there in front of him. he sat up with a sigh to begin getting ready for another day of school. 

---

     he arrived at the large school just seconds before the first bell rang, still distracted by the dreams he had just woken up from. he recognized a group of boys walking down the hall, not bothering to listen into the conversation as he joined them. 

     "there was a hot babe in my fifth period class yesterday." undoubtedly richie. 

     "right richie, and i'm s-sure she was totally into you?"

     "nope. he was totally drooling at her from across the room. you know, you're gonna catch something if you drop your mouth like that every time you see a remotely cute girl?"

     "sure eds. whatever." 

     stan walked behind them for a minute and listened to their conversation before tuning out to look around him at the students. he examined the kids at their lockers before one caught his eye. it was her . the girl from his dream. he held his breath as they passed her, taking a mental note of her locker number-- 134. he kept his head down and the attention away until he got to his first period class which he shared with the one and only richie. 

---

     halfway through the lecture stan was pulled out of his daydreams by a kick in the shin. 

     "pst, stan the man. whatcha thinking about?" richie asked. stan dismissed the question with a shake of his head, hoping richie would leave him alone. 

     "who is she?"

     "what?"

      "i know you're thinking about a girl, stan." stan sighed and shook his head again. he didn't need richie being his wing man on the matter.

      "is she poetic? i can get you a poem for nickels on the dime my friend." that was a stupid question. why would stan need a poem to win this girl over? did he? he raised an eyebrow in richie's direction and the dark-headed boy turned around with a grin on his face. 

---

     richie walked into his fifth period class like a man on a mission. he sat at his table group, waiting for his plan to unfold. 

     she sat down in front of him, immediately pulling out the dark notebook she kept hidden somewhere in her backpack. he smirked and raised his head to talk.

     "hey hot stuff." she barely looked up from her notebook, closing lightly when she realized the comment was aimed at her.

     "it's y-n". she stated, not knowing whether or not the dumbass in front of her knew her name.

     "yeah sure, whatever. i was just wondering if you could write a poem for a girl?" she snorted a small laugh, rolling her eyes and going back to her notebook. richie shrugged and leaned back in his chair, not knowing how to respond to her actions. 

---

     richie heard the bell rang and pulled his bag up off his chair, barely noticing as y-n placed a small folded piece of paper in front of him on his desk. he smiled and watched as she quickly made her way out of the room and dashed into the hallway. he walked up behind stan and slapped him in the back of the neck, earning a sigh from the taller boy. 

     "hello? what do you want richie." richie smirked and handed stan the folded piece of paper.

     "a poem for you, m'lady." stan smacked him and noticed they had to pass her locker to get to the lunch room. he scanned his right and saw it, quickly slamming it in the door slot and earning a laugh from richie. "you're just so subtle, stan. how do you do it?"

     "shut up."

---

     richie and stan were facing the doorways to the cafeteria when they heard it. the scoff, a crumple of paper and the slam of a locker. neither of them took interest until richie noticed y-n quickly walking their way. she didn't look happy, either. 

     "really subtle, asshole." she spoke as she set the poem, her poem in front of him on the table. stan held his breath, not sure what was happening until richie spoke up.

     "well how the hell was i supposed to know it'd end up there?" he asked, kicking stan in the shins under the table. stan let out an 'ouch', earning a undeserved glare from y-n.

     "grow a pair next time." she spoke as she tore it in half, leaving the remains on the table in front of stan. 

[i can write a part two if need be.] [814 words]