hand sanitizer

"What's on your lips?" A curly haired boy with big framed glasses asked the boy in front of him.

"Oh u-um n-nothing," The other boy shook his head, lying. This morning he found his mother's lip gloss, and he liked how it looked.

"It's pretty," The curly haired boy said.

"Th-Thank you," Bill Denbrough said, a bright smile spreading across his face.

Then another little boy sat at their table, breathing heavily as tears brimmed his eyes. Bill turned toward him and studied the name tag at his desk.

"E-Edward?" Bill asked, looking at the little boy and then the curly haired one.

The curly haired one looked at the small boy. He was shaking as if he was cold, and his eyes were puffy as if he'd already been crying. Richie, being just five and affectionate, knew something was wrong. Instead of asking, like Bill was going to, he stood up and stepped to the littles boy's desk. He wrapped his arms around the small boy, rubbing his arms like his own mother would when she hugged Richie.

The small boy, Edward, jumped back, his eyes widening at a sudden and unprepared for touch. Richie took no offense, he knew he was hugging a stranger. But this stranger looked like he needed a hug, and Richie knew he needed friends.

"Hey Eddie. Are you okay?" Their teacher bent to their level and asked in a hushed voice.

"Eddiebear! What are they doing to you?" Eddie's mother ran over, as she was still talking to the teacher even after the bell rang.

"I-I'm okay," Eddie sniffles as Richie smiles brightly at him.

"They're my friends."

And with that, Bill, Stan, and Richie, has made their third friend.