Ｓｔｕｔｔｅｒ [ｂｉｌｌ ｄｅｎｂｒｏｕｇｈ ｘ ｒｅａｄｅｒ]

ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ

♧♧♧

"Okay, guys, it looks like Ben is patched up pretty well," Stan said, clicking his tongue. He pulled his bike from beneath the pile. "I should get home and practice my Torah reading." He took the long way out of the alley.

Richie was next to go. He was going to spend countless hours standing in front of a Street Fighter console. That left four of us. Ben once again situated himself on the back of Silver. He still couldn't walk very well.

"Just, uh, drop me off at the library," he said, pointing in that general direction. Bill nodded, heading off. I began to follow.

"Y/n, where are you going?" Eddie asked. He was pulling off in the opposite direction. I turned back to look at him. He adjusted his fanny pack.

"I'm just gonna make sure Ben gets back okay," I tell him. He nods, waving me away. Bill and I peel out of the alleyway. I couldn't help but think what I wanted to tell him was going to ruin the years of friendship.

♧♧♧

Ben gets off the bike and clumsily walks up the stairs to the doors. He turns around and waves before going inside. That left just Bill and I. We didn't make any conversation. We didn't even look at one another. I turned the radio on low to break the awkward silence. Bill ran a hand through his hair.

"Wh-what now?" He asked. As if I knew. I shrug, resting my foot on the ground.

"I don't know, Bill."

About A Girl begins to play. Well, this is fitting. I thought of how he looked at Beverly. I couldn't help but think that it kind of hurt. I mean, I couldn't be sure that Bill liked either one of us. I brushed it off. Not the time.

"Y-Y/n?" Bill asked. I looked over at him. His gaze was soft. I brought my hand up to the silver heart necklace around my neck and twirled it between my fingers.

"Hmm?" I said, watching his lips twitch as he formulated a response.

"Can I s-show you s-s-something?" 

I nodded softly. My face flushed. I wondered what he wanted me to see. I followed him as he pedaled away. We arrived at his house, ditching our bikes in the front yard. His father was home. he was most likely in the garage. The last time I was over, he was in there, hunched over an architectural drawing and a coffee mug.

"Y-you haven't been here in a w-w-while," Bill started, opening the front door. I hadn't stepped foot in the Denbrough residence since last November when things got really bad with Bill. At that point, he was still in deep denial, and wouldn't open the door or answer the phone. It was his mother that let me in then.

"B-but I st-still have the Ch-Christmas lights you had me h-hang," he continued. I followed him up the stairs. The picture frames that lined the stairwell were incredibly dusty; the glass was no longer crystal clear. "And th-th-the thermos y-you brought me wh-when I was sick over Thanksgiving b-break."

So that's what he was showing me. That deep down, he hadn't changed. We stepped foot in his bedroom. Sure enough, the off-white Christmas lights were still strung above his bed. The shelves of his desk were covered in intricate paper creatures.

♧

"Oh, hi, Y/n," Mrs. Denbrough said, opening the door further to let me in. It was just shortly after the confirmation of Georgie's disappearance, and I still hadn't stopped trying to reach the boy. I could only imagine how I would feel if I lost Eddie, but I think that if I did, I would be in a similar place.

I had a small box of miscellaneous things to entertain him and brighten up his room, as well as a thermos of cocoa. I'd heard that he'd fallen ill due to the sudden change in temperature. I draped my coat over the hook on the back of the door, slipped off my shoes, and started up the stairs.