JUNE 2017

This place was fucking bullshit.

All she wanted to do was spread her wings and get the fuck out of here asap. Mrs Douglas had already taken her phone off her after she caught Bea refreshing her follower count on her secret Instagram for the hundredth time. Everybody knew Bea Tremaine was the phone junkie, the weird loner that barely talked to anybody and had zero friends.
Well, apart from the Marsh girl, they'd been seen together a few times and in chemistry where she'd quiet gab away to Stan Uris aaaaand when she'd been spotted with Mike Hanlon - but that was besides the point.

Wether or not she had friends, Bea was infamous for getting amazing grades. The reason? Her mom.
Since the death of her dad, you'd think the woman would go easy on her right? Wrong.

It only made her push harder. Until she couldn't breathe and finally snapped. Bea turned to the false warm shoulder that was drugs and alcohol. She didn't do anything super intense, just the occasional blunt, but it still would've made her mother go on a killing spree if she found out. Luckily though Margot was ignorant and wouldn't pay attention to the fact her daughter was gone. Wine was the drug that subdued her and that was good enough for Bea.

Oh, and not not mention Bea fucking hated everybody.

Like literally everyone.

Nobody put in effort into everything and no way in hell was she gonna act dumb and unbothered just to attract the attention of some whiny popular kids. Especially Greta Keene.

Bea detested that cunt, she was the bane of her existence. Greta couldn't go on two minutes without mentioning how her dad had preordered the new iPhone for her or that she'd bought the newest makeup product online or how fucked up she'd gotten at the last party. She would not hesitate to drag her through the school by the strands of her curly, bleached hair. Bea didn't know why Greta bragged so much, her dad was literally rumoured to be a pedophile.

The ringing of the bell was like a holy symbol to her as she rushed to collect her phone but Mrs Douglas snatched it away and claimed she couldn't get it back until the end of the day.

The space around her locker was empty as she casually traded books for each class. Bea found herself being nosey and focusing on the other people in the hallway.

She saw the new boy pass by. He was quiet and from what she could tell from when she stalked his instagram, he was a bit of a Derry buff. His name was Ben, he was larger than the others but Bea could tell from the few extremely brief interactions they'd shared he was different. Softer. More sympathetic, shy.
He was the kid that didn't want to go to parties and act fake to a bunch of people he'd never see after the fleeting four years they'd be trapped within this prison. Somehow, she liked that.

Snapped from her daze by Henry Bowers smashing into her, she rolled her eyes and ignored him. Powering forward, blocking out the disgusting catcalls him and his friends would get away with on a daily basis. Life seemed to be great when you're the son of the police sheriff. He got away with everything.

Eye rolling was Bea's signature trait. It kept her going, she wouldn't be able to just sit there and ignore her classmates stupidity.

You'd think they'd all calm down after the influx of missing kids but it just seemed to rile them up even more. As if they wanted to make stupid decisions and get taken by whatever sex maniac was running through Derry.

"Well, well, well. Bumblebee. You really lost your snark today. Got your phone taken off of you? So sad." Greta approached the girl with a devilish smirk and pulled a fake cry face at the end of her sentence. Bea slammed the locker door and turned to her.

"How 'bout you go fuck yourself Greta." The taller girl stared her down, not putting up with her bully bullshit. Greta's smirk dropped slightly but she maintained composure, turning to her cronies to get a boost of confidence.
"Listen here, you really think you can get away with acting like such a little smartass everyday, you've got another thing coming." Greta pinned her against the cold metallic door and regrew a grin.

"Summers coming. Soon you won't have the protection of teachers to help you. Don't think your mom would care either." Bea grunted and shoved her away. Greta could threaten her all she wanted but Bea would always outsmart her.
"Don't threaten me. You'll be stuck with your pedo dad in that boring ass pharmacy all day and I'll be far, far away. Maybe I'll visit. Your dad would certainly like it." Bea winked and pushed passed her and her gang of idiots. She was the one smirking now.

Strutting down the hallway, she relished in the looks her classmates gave her. Usually, she would ball up and become insecure but today Bea truly couldn't give a shit. Let them talk, they didn't know her. All they'd be saying was bullshit and lies. So why should she care?

Her train of not caring was interrupted by passing by a group of boys she'd become somewhat familiar with.

Stan Uris had one rise of notoriety - when his Bar Mitzvah after party got out of control and the police had to shut it down. That was his claim to fame in Derry, some had even said it was the best party they'd ever been to. Of course, it mainly comprised of gate crashing seniors and none of it was really his doing, but it still ended him with the nickname of 'Stan the Man'. Some used it more mockingly than others but back in 2014, it was a big deal. Even Greta Keene-Bowie stopped bullying him for a couple of months. Didn't stop Henry Bowers and his gang though.
Stan's party was the first she'd even been to, it was the gate way to her gate crashing tendencies. He actually went out of his way to invite her and that meant a lot to Bea. Stan became her first true friend, they didn't hang out much but they'd chat on Facebook messenger almost 24/7 and moved beside each other in chemistry, making it the only class she actually sat with someone in.

In those chemistry lessons, he'd tell her all about the wacky things his friends got up to. She probably knew more about them than they knew themselves.

Bill Denbrough was infamous. His brother Georgie had gone missing and his family had been all over the local news for about a week. After that it all went radio silent like with all the other missing kids but Bill always kept up the fight. He tried to get publicity for Georgie on social media but nothing worked. Bea could remember him having a stutter from when they used to be in the same English class but recently it seemed to have gotten way worse. She felt a pang of sympathy for the guy. He was an artist and a writer, some of the drawings he'd made were amazing. Bea liked to stalk his Insta occasionally just to look at them. He just wanted to do right and clearly his parents had given up. Georgie's legacy lived on through Bill and a small conspiracy forum that Bill tried to start up.

Eddie Kaspbrak was Derry's resident hypochondriac. Fuelled by his intense mother, he never left the house without his fanny pack first aid kit and hand sanitiser. He'd tried so hard to be normal and make social media accounts but his mom forbade him after watching a news broadcast about pedophiles on the internet. He was extremely gullible, his entire Instagram comprised of chainmail and from what Bea could remember, pictures of Fred Savage. Above all that, Sonia Kaspbrak warned him about bacteria growing easily on iPhone screens and so his brand new iPhone was replaced by an old Nokia brick. His texts were monitored by her and he usually got his phone confiscated courtesy of the inappropriate ones Richie Tozier had sent him.

And then there was Richie. She'd heard allllll about him.

He had a slight spark in popularity after starting a meme page and Youtube channel. He was moderately popular but the popular kids mainly watched his videos to make fun of him. He was at the top of the Losers pile but even that was wearing thin. His initial pat on the back was turning back into cruel jeers and gags for the kids to take the piss out of him. He didn't care, he thought he was God's gift to Youtube. Richie liked to act like he was famous but deep down he knew it was all a joke.

He was pretty cute, Bea admitted. He was the tallest of all his friends, he'd certainly developed in the past year and flourished into a fucking nerd that Bea just seemed to be slightly attracted too. Why the fuck did she have to have a thing for dark haired, lanky white guys with foul language?
Bev had mentioned smoking weed with him a few times and she almost asked her to invite him, but then again she had a 'loner' image to mantain and Beverly, Mike and Stan were already cutting it thin.

With a slight smile directed towards Stan, he nodded in her direction and she continued to go her separate way. This way just so happened to include passing by Beverly's locker.

Beverly Marsh was the only girl in the entire town Bea could relate to. Something about her just attracted Bea, if she wasn't straight - she'd definitely be in love with Beverly. They weren't always friends, in fact Bea had only met the girl a year and a half ago. Technically, Bev was her best friend but then again she didn't really have many options at this shithole. In her opinion, Bev was a diamond in the rough. She deserved so much better than the rumours and bullshit that she got thrown at her on the daily.
Both of them knew what it was like to be overwhelmed with the world. So every second Saturday, about an hour after the stupid curfew, they made the arrangement to sneak out and smoke. Talk about all the shit in the world that was bothering them. To be able to think and speak without judgement from cunts like Greta or Henry.

"What's good, Marsh?" Bea nodded at the ginger girl, who grew a smile on her pink plump lips as soon as she saw her. "Nothing much, Tremaine. We still on for tomorrow night?" Beverly winked, closing her locker and starting to walk beside the girl.

"You betcha. Catch you then, DM me." With a pat on the arm, Bea departed from her and left for her next class.

School went by pretty fast, Bea practically sprinted to get her phone back and whined when she saw the large amount of missed notifications. One even included when Bev had tried to text her in class.

Her main mode of transport was usually her bike but she'd gotten the bus today and so as she hopped onto it, Bea characteristically rolled her eyes at Patrick Hockstetter's perverted antics directed at one of his female classmates. She remembered stalking his tumblr and finding it filled with torture porn and emo quotes. That alone made her want to stay far away from him.

Sitting on the bus, her phone buzzed indicating an Instagram DM from her personal Instagram account. Bea had two accounts, one was the one that was her only known one to her classmates. She posted stupid pictures of Bev and Stan on it and the occasional selfie.
Then there was her main account, the place she got to be a true aesthetic hoe. The only person who knew about it was Beverly. Just like she was the only person who knew about Beverly's secret account.
Bev didn't have a personal one, terrified that her dad would find it and use it against her or classmates would mock her and take away the only place she felt free.

mikeyh: Wanna help with some photography later?

It was her friend Mike, his family ran the farm south of Derry. They'd met each other recently when Bea had accidentally photobombed one of his pictures.

beatremaine: can't sorry! mom's got me doing sm revision :(((

mikeyh: Shit that sucks, and plus exam time is over. Hope you get out of it soon!

beatremaine: thanks dude! maybe next weekend?

With a deep breath, Bea switched off her phone and prepared for the wrath Margot Tremaine was about to unleash upon her.