Dear Anonymous |Stozier|

14

Give me tips to get inspiration to write

Stan knocked on Bills door waiting for his friend to open it. He waited a minute in the hot sun, swatting at mosquitos and flys before peering through the window. He knocked again, louder then the time before but no one answered.

The teen sighed putting his bag on the group and sitting beside it. Of course Bill isn't home. He plans the sleepover and what time they should come, then isn't home before they arrive. Stan huffed a laugh, this has happened many times when they were younger. Stan would arrive at Bills for a play date or a sleepover and Bill would get there 10 minutes later from the wherever he had been that time. The look on his friends face was always hilarious. He looked like a deer in headlights but also as if he just witnessed a murder.

"OI MATE WHATCHA DOING, DID YA BROUGHT THE BISCUITS EH?!" Someone said it an awful British accent. Stan looked at the driveway and saw non other than Richard Tozier stood there, neon orange lined plastic sunglasses topped with a red bucket hat with a sleeping mask on it. In the teenagers arms was a single duffel bag, clearing passed down as the colour was fading and it had a few minor tears.

Once Richie finally realized it was only Stan there he shot a questioning glance, walking up the stone steps to the door. He knocked and waited a few seconds, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground before peering through the window.

"No ones home dumbass." Stan said from the ground. He appeared emotionless, like he had said that just to be rude. Richie has gotten good at reading emotions and people's true intentions though, and he could tell there was a hint of amusement laced in his voice and a spark of humour in his eyes. Richie grinned none the less, knowing this wasn't intended to be mean.

Richie has ford been confused when Stan started suddenly being nice (More accurately, less rude). He had been sure that he threw a rock through the window of friendship that had formed the day in the library. Then all of a sudden it's like Stan decided that a broken window could be fixed and it wasn't worth hating someone for. The window of friendship had been fixed and Richie didn't care about how it was, what mattered was that it was a clear window of opportunity and he would take it and he wouldn't mess it up.

Richie tossed his bag on the ground carelessly and sat on the concrete, leaning all of his body weight on the locked door.

"Billiam isn't here?" Richie questioned after a minute of silence. Stan turned his attention to the other teenager, seeming to just realize that Richie was still there. Richie darted his eyes around, looking for anything to turn his attention too. Stan was just staring at him, did he say something wrong? A bead of sweat was about to fall down from his forehead when Stan started laughing. Richie looked at him with his what the fuck face and stared shell shocked.

"Wait," Stan started when he stopped laughing, "you're not joking? Did you and Bill never have sleepovers? He always does this, forgets until the last minute and the comes back from wherever the hell he is to find his friends waiting outside in the heat or cold. Honestly annoying but that's just Bill." Stan explained briefly.

"Damn." Was all Richie had to say.

"Damn is right." Stan replied.

They sat in silence. Not the awkward kind were you're not sure what to say next, but a comfortable silence. One you could have with a close friend. A silence that seemed fragile but strong, it could stay there forever but a small word, a cough of a hiccup could destroy it.

Finally a car pulled up and little Georgie jumped out, gasping with a large grin before running and hugging Stan.

"STANNY!" Georgie yelled smiling. Stan was shocked but smiled and hugged the child back. Richie smiles fondly at the interaction. It was heart warming knowing that Stan got along with the kid. Bill got out soon after, his face read in embarrassment. Richie turned his attention and grinned, flipping off his best friend.

"HEY ASSHOLE REMEMBER US?!"