chapter one
the wicked bitch of west broadway

☼ ☽

Jillian Samson had never been one to rely on other people like some desperate damsel in distress. She thought the incredulous idea was best left for the princesses in the fairytales her father used to read her before kissing her goodnight. Besides, the brunette was hardly ball gown material in the first place. From her unruly brown waves which were choppily cut just above her shoulders to her second-hand tattered overalls which she'd purchased from the Salvation Army downtown, the girl was something out of a horror movie with a tight budget. But when it came to the certain copper-haired Beverly Marsh, the brunette didn't mind leaning on her like one of those foolish damsels. Suddenly, all those walls she had built were torn down by the thirteen-year-old girl.

When they first met years ago on the fire escape of their apartment complex, the two immediately clicked. Like two magnets searching for each other in a sea of paperclips, they finally collided and couldn't be separated from the other even if an earthquake split right through the middle of Derry. But as the years went by, the brunette girl began to realize her relationship with the redhead was different from most girls their age. Jill always noticed how the ginger would get this smile when she'd play the piano and she quickly realized she would have done anything to keep that grin on her face. She thought her feelings were normal considering friends were supposed to care deeply for each other, but something in the back of her mind told her the feelings she harbored went beyond purely platonic acts.

In a way, Jill Samson always knew she was different from the other girls in her grade. When she was in kindergarten and the other girls would go around teasing the boys by pecking their cheeks, she'd groan in disgust and continue drawing a picture of beating Richard Tozier to the pulp with a baseball bat. And at the beginning of the sixth grade when the Tozier boy asked her to the Snow Ball, she flipped him the bird and called him a loser. Even though the boy wasn't much of a looker, he was still a boy and girls were supposed to swoon at the thought of being asked to a middle school dance. But Jill didn't feel those butterflies in her stomach when he winked at her or flashed her a cheeky grin in the hallways, she only wanted to punch him in the face.

When she saw her best friend, snarky yet sweet, red-haired Beverly Marsh dressed in the sapphire blue dress they had plucked from the racks at the Salvation Army, her chest burned and she suddenly felt almost queasy. The color of the dress was the perfect shade of blue to compliment her ocean eyes and Jill couldn't deny the so-called obnoxious butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Later that night, when Bill Denbrough asked the ginger to dance, Jill felt like kicking him where the sun didn't shine and stealing his date. She would've too if Beverly hadn't looked so damn happy while dancing with him to "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner. Instead, the brunette stood by the punch table watching her best friend lay her head on the boy's shoulder until, later in the night, Beverly finally noticed the girl's glare and dragged her onto the dance floor.

Jill, who hadn't completely learned how to manage her abnormally long limbs and had never attended a dance, was a little hesitant at first. "But Bev, I can't dance," she had whined, slightly pouting at her best friend as they stopped in the middle of a crowd of middle school girls and their pimple-frenzied dates.

"I don't wanna' hear it," Beverly had said, rolling her eyes and giving a small half grin to the brunette as she tugged her body closer so they were only a few inches apart. "Tonight you, Jill Samson, are gonna' have fun." At that she had encircled her arms around the nape of the brunette's neck, leaving Jill to hover her hands over her waist while the girl's heart nearly hammered out of her chest.

After that night, Jill couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in her stomach whenever the redhead would enter a room. She guessed she had always known about her feelings toward the girl, but tried to ignore them for the sake of their friendship. But now when they'd have sleepovers, Jill wanted nothing more than to pull her close and smash her lips onto hers, however, she never did and she quickly realized she never could. No, she didn't care what the unscrupulous scumbags of Derry had to say, she only cared what Beverly thought and if she confessed to her little crush on the redhead, it could tear them apart. Jill couldn't let that happen because a world without Beverly Marsh wasn't a world she wanted to endure.

The years went on while Jill slowly continued to feel more and more for her best friend and soon it seemed Beverly had stolen her heart and took it with her everywhere she went, sometimes leaving Jill with a void in her chest when they'd part ways. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in the brunette, but Jill liked to fantasize about them being the sun and the moon; star-crossed lovers at best and just like the sun needed the moon to stay grounded, Jill needed her. Almost as if it was written in the stars, the brunette's hopeful thinking wasn't entirely all that off and would be proven to be set in stone even on the last day of eighth grade.

The two thirteen-year-old girls had escaped to the bathroom from the claws of Miss Kingsbury, a middle-aged woman with black, mangled hair which resembled a bird's nest and stern, steel eyes which were hidden behind pointed, red glasses. Jill had joked once or twice, the adult woman had chosen the vibrant color of her glasses to symbolize the blood of her victims, which always happened to make Beverly chuckle, so Jill kept on telling the joke just to hear her laughter.

The adult woman also just so happened to be their eighth-grade Social Studies teacher who hated her job possibly more than she hated the children sitting in the desks, so the two girls never felt one ounce of guilt when they skipped her boring class to smoke in the bathroom for a few minutes. They especially didn't feel inclined to bid their respects to the woman or her class since it was the last day and they would only be missing Greta Keene pop her bubble gum in their faces. Besides, there was no better company than being in each other's presence when the final bell rang.

"I wish summer could last forever," Jill sighed, thinking about all the things she would do if year-round vacation existed. She leaned back against the cold metal of the bathroom stall and blew out a puff of smoke. "What do you think? Does an endless summer sound good to you?" the brunette asked, snapping her eyes to Beverly's freckled face.

The redhead was seated atop the bathroom sink's countertop, one leg crossed over the other as she leaned back on one hand and smoked a cigarette with the other. Her auburn tresses were pulled back into a long ponytail which hung over her right shoulder like a shield and her bangs feathered over her forehead which always left Jill itching to brush them aside.

Beverly inhaled a long drag from her cigarette and swayed her head back and forth as if she was toying with the idea of an endless summer. Like any thirteen-year-old girl bored with school and her classmates, Beverly Marsh would have been pleased to never return, but summer for girls like her could be worse than the school year. Summer meant staying home with her father around. Summer meant dealing with all of his bullshit and not being able to change any of it. But summer also meant spending more time with her best friend, Jill Samson, the one person on the entire face of the earth who made her feel like she could finally breathe. The redhead knew she could survive summer of '89 as long as a certain brunette girl with abnormally long legs and a foul mouth was by her side.

"No school. No teachers. No Greta. Sounds pretty good, but here's the real deal-breaker," she said with an exhale of smoke. "Are we spending it together? Because then I'm sold." The corners of her mouth formed into a half-grin as she playfully winked at her friend. Jill slightly craned her neck back and released a bubbly laugh, but she couldn't ignore the way her heart sped up.

"What about high school?" Jill changed the subject, feeling very anxious to dig herself out of the grave the redhead's smile had shoved her in. "Do you think it'll be different?" She studied her face from the freckles dusted across her small nose to the slight curve of her coral stained lips. She was totally screwed, and the redhead had barely even spoken.

The redhead shrugged, her eyes transfixed on the burning cigarette between her fingers. "I don't care what happens." Beverly took another drag of her cigarette and puffed out smoke. "As long as you're by my side I think I can manage," she confessed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Jill absentmindedly bit her lip to stop herself from smiling like a fool. "I don't know . . . one summer can change everything." She hadn't known why she said that. Perhaps she was hoping Beverly would agree, take her by the arms, and kiss her, but those things only happened in the movies and even then, she'd have to be prettier, nicer, and well, less into girls.

Beverly raised her light brows. "Was that an invitation or a threat?" she playfully asked with a grin as she pressed her palms on the sink countertop for balance and leaned forward.

Jill scoffed. "Threats? Me? No." She waved her off with one hand and brought her cigarette to her lips with the other. "It was a suggestion, peaches."

The redhead couldn't help but smile widely as Jill pushed off the stall and leaned against the sink countertop beside her.

"That's a pretty conspicuous suggestion," the ginger stated as if it were fact.

The Samson girl lazily peered up at Beverly, a small smile sliding across her face which no-doubt made her look like a love-struck dumbass. God, she hated when she got like that, but she couldn't help it . . . at least not when the redhead was looking down at her with those damn eyes. She loved those eyes. They made her feel like she could do anything. Be anything. Maybe even be hers. And for a second, while floating through the deep ocean waves in Beverly's eyes, Jill believed maybe this summer could be different.

"Well, summer hasn't even started yet, so I guess you'll have to wait and see," Jill mused, her droopy gaze shifting from those ocean eyes to her reflection in the mirror. The girl who stared back at her was one even she wouldn't want to be friends with. From the dark circles hanging under her dark brown almost obsidian eyes to the permanent scowl etched across her face, she knew right away this summer would be no different than the last and Beverly would never go for her.

Alarm bells started going off in her head, but she quickly realized it was just the end of school bell signaling school was out for the summer. "Now summer has begun," Jill mumbled and forced a smile on her face in an attempt to take her mind off her intrusive thoughts.

Beverly briefly noticed the change in her friend's expression, but before she could ask, realization hit her. "Dammit," she hissed, "Miss Kingsbury will be heading over here to skin us for ditching her class."

Jill cringed. She wasn't too fond of being scolded on the last day of school especially by the wretched harpy, Miss Agnes Kingsbury. "You think she noticed we were gone for so long?" Her eyes widened just the slightest as she glanced to the redhead for an answer she already knew.

"We said we were going to the bathroom forty minutes ago." Beverly chuckled.

Jill couldn't help but be amused as a small smile fell onto her lips. "Should we go?" she asked, putting out her cigarette in the damp sink.

The ginger glanced down at her cigarette which was almost burned down to the butt. There was no way in hell an angry, sad bitch was going to ruin her fun and waste a perfectly good cig just because she thought all people were scum of the earth. "One more minute, my cig's almost out," she pleaded, those blue eyes too wide for Jill to resist.

Before Jill could answer, the bathroom door slammed open, smacking harshly against the wall.

"Shit!" Beverly quietly shrieked, darting into one of the bathroom stalls. "Cover for me," she begged, sliding the stall door shut which left her best friend in a fit of inaudible laughter.

The footsteps barged through the entrance, slamming against the tiled floor like a nail being hammered into a piece of wood. Jill expected to see her red in the face teacher, but all expectations went to waste when she caught a glimpse of that damned blonde ponytail. The ponytail belonged to none other than the royal bitch herself, Greta Keene.

Greta Keene was a snobby thirteen-year-old girl in their grade who never went a day without finding somebody to torment. Mostly the top two victims on her hit list were Beverly and Jillian, perhaps because they always gave her shit back instead of taking her bullshit like they didn't have a backbone. Jill thought surely there must be some kind of heart shriveled up deep inside her chest cavity, but it was like she ran cold on malice without any form of genuine emotion. She was the type of girl whose parents left her to cry in the middle of the night when she was a baby. Or maybe she had a genuine mental problem which could explain her mean streak, but either way, Greta Keene was a bitch and a real nasty one.

"Oh, it's just you," Jill sneered, shifting her weight so her back was leaning against the countertop. "Thought I smelt trash." The rest of Greta's so-called friends filtered in after her, and Jill scoffed at the obvious mean girl cliche.

Greta rolled her eyes and mumbled something to one of her friends before she made her way over to the sink near Jill. She ran a hand through her blonde hair which was pinned up by a scrunchie as she glanced at the brunette out of the corner of her eye.

The blonde had been tormenting the two girls since primary school, but as the years flew by and Beverly Marsh grew into her wide blue eyes, she suddenly didn't go unnoticed by all the boys in their grade, and Greta's jealousy skyrocketed. Jill was only collateral damage in the blonde's vengeance until last year when she kissed Jane Graves under the bleachers during an assembly and Greta caught them in the act. It was just supposed to be a stupid kiss to get her mind off Beverly, but it ended up turning into a nightmare. The next day, all her friends avoided her like the bubonic plague and the rumors spread around town like wildfire.

Jill crossed her arms over her chest, already fed up with the girl. "What is it today? Come to see if the rumors are true?" she questioned, a taunting smile slithering across her face. "I'll give you a hint," she leaned just a hair closer to Greta, "I am as good a kisser as they say."

The blonde girl smiled a vindictive smile which never meant good things and let go of the hair she was twirling. She let her scrutinizing eyes draw downward, judging Jill's clothes which weren't winning any beauty pageants any time soon. One of her brows quirked up in a questioning manner as those cold, steel eyes zoned in on Jill's unamused face. "You know what I'm here for," she said, eyes narrowed and head tilted close enough to Jill she could smell the bubblegum on her breath.

Jill fought the urge to either roll her eyes or punch Greta right in her big mouth. She knew why Greta came to torment her that day. She always knew. The blonde girl wanted to push Beverly just a little over the edge until she finally snapped, but Jill knew pissing Beverly Marsh off would surely end in a bloody nose, not a river full of tears. And even if she would pay all the money in the world to see Greta Keene get decked, today was not that day

"And what is that exactly?" Jill questioned, figuring if she played dumb, she'd get under her skin.

Greta scowled, her face turning a light shade of rouge. She looked as if she were about to explode at any moment, and Jill couldn't help the excitement it brought her. "Don't play dumb," the blonde girl warned.

"Play dumb?" Jill tested the words on her tongue as if they were foreign to her vocabulary. "Whatever do you mean? I'm in here all alone, you see. Unless that's why you came in here." She uncrossed an arm, extending her hand to play with a loose strand of Greta's blonde hair. "Tell me, Greta, did you come here for me?"

"God, shut up!" Greta shoved the hand from her hair, pushing Jill into the sink.

"Woah, be careful, Greta." Jill shoved her hands up in the air and chuckled. "Touch me like that again and I might start to like you." She relished in the blonde girl's discomfort and decided to take it a step further just to tick her off. She tested her luck and extended her hand once again to brush the fuzzy flyaways out of Greta's face. "You know people like me just can't control ourselves, especially around bodacious women like yourself."

Greta shrieked, pulling away from the hand in her hair like it was on fire. "You're disgusting! I didn't come here for you to hit on me, you perv!"

"Huh, how odd," the brunette said as if she couldn't fathom the idea. "Why else would you have come in here?"

"You're really getting on my nerves, bitch," the blonde practically growled, resembling a rabid dog. "Tell me where she is and don't give me a bullshit answer because you're always following that slut around like a bitch on a leash! Then again, where one slut goes so do all the rest."

"What's your deal with calling everyone a slut? I thought that was a seventies thing." Jill's lips curled into a half-smirk as she watched the blonde girl's fair face turn from a light blush to full-on dynamite-red. "But to answer your question," the brunette raised a brow, "I don't know any sluts."

Greta tightly closed her eyes, trying to calm herself which only made Jill smile wider. "I should have known," Greta began, opening her eyes into narrow slits, "you're useless, but that's not a surprise, is it? No wonder your mom left you."

Jill's face fell, a burning sensation flooding through her veins. She knew that feeling all too well. Rage. Pure rage banging on her insides to be let out and wipe that smug look off Greta's face. Her mother was a touchy subject which Jill never wanted to dive into head first. The whole town knew about Elizabeth Phenny's departure from Derry and the family she left behind, but they never brought up the incident to her daughter, except Greta Keene who didn't give two shits about paying her respects.

"Eat my shorts, Keene," Jill spat, her face screwed into an unforgiving scowl.

"Shut up," the blonde seethed. "Where is she? Where's Beverly?"

"Beverly Marsh?" Jill questioned. "She went home when the bell rang and is probably watching some show, already forgetting about your existence." Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she tried to keep her cool, but what Greta had said about Beverly had started to gnaw at her patience. "And for the record, she's not a slut."

A smile slithered onto the blonde's face, making it all the more irresistible to punch. "You're just as pathetic as you are useless. Not to mention a horrible liar,"  Greta whispered, her voice laced with venom. "Now, tell me where the fuck Beverly is hiding or I'll flush your face in the god damn toilet!" The blonde was practically fuming from the ears as she gritted her teeth, her eyes hazed with malice and perhaps a hint of excitement. She wanted Jill to be afraid. She thrived on the fear she wreaked, but Jill wouldn't let her have that pleasure.

Jill shoved away her anger, bottling it up as tightly as she was squeezing her fists. "Again with the threats," she spoke down to the girl in front of her like an adult would do to a mischievous child. "I'm surprised you managed to make it to the end of the year without a suspension."

As the last words tumbled off her tongue, a snort of laughter sounded from inside one of the bathroom stalls. All the attention in the room zeroed in on the stall as realization dawned on the spawns of Satan. In the next few seconds, a few things happened: Greta's cold eyes lit up in excitement as she marched over to the stall and kicked it, Jill reached out to stop her but was pinned back by two of Greta's friends, and Beverly sighed, putting out her cigarette on the stall door.

"Are you in there by yourself Beaverly? Or do you have half the guys in the school with you? Huh, slut?" Greta spewed, banging on the door with clenched fists.

Beverly rolled her eyes, propping her chin on her hand. She blew out the last bit of smoke from her lungs, but before she could call Greta a bitch, Jill interrupted with a tone that sounded deadly. "Did you not hear me or are you just stupid? Beverly's not here," Jill spat through clenched teeth as she struggled against the hold of the two girls.

Greta groaned. "God, Samson, don't you ever shut your loud mouth?"

She didn't let Jill answer before she kicked the stall again. "I know you're in there, you little shit, I can smell you." Her gaze shifted to Jill as she watched her struggle against the hold of her friends. A smile slithered across her face as she said, "No wonder the lez's your only friend."

Beverly scoffed. "Which is it, Greta? Am I a slut or a little shit?" She shifted on the toilet seat. "Make up your mind."

Greta scowled, her face twisting into a ghastly look as she flicked her eyes to one of her friends. "You're trash," the blonde spat as if the words were her weapons. A glint of mischief—or perhaps it was spite—crossed those steel eyes and before anyone could decipher the meaning behind the look, Greta nodded her head in the direction of a trash can. "We just wanted to remind you."

Jill followed her gaze to the trash can, trying to figure out what exactly was Greta's master plan. What did she want with the trash can? Surely, Greta wouldn't be so cruel as to dump its contents on the floor or on one of the girls. The blonde girl was mean and downright psychotic sometimes, but she knew her limits just like all the rest of the bullies which infiltrated Derry. But Jill quickly learned even Greta Keene didn't know when to stop as one of the girls gathered the plastic bag in her hands, pulling it out of the bin. The bin fell to the floor and the girl kicked it to the side as she dragged the bag over to the sink to fill it up.

"What the fuck are you doing, Greta?" Jill hastily asked, her heart rate speeding up not in fear but in anger. She was so not in the mood to spend the rest of the day picking bloody tampons out of her hair because Greta Keene was a major asshole with one too many insecurities.

"I said shut up, you fucking carpet muncher!" the girl screeched.

She's lost her fucking mind, Jill thought as she watched Greta relish in her insanity. Maybe she had pushed the girl a little over the edge with her taunting and teasing, but she didn't feel one ounce of guilt. Greta deserved it especially right at that very moment.

The sound of the faucet turning off caught Jill's attention as she looked over her shoulder just in time to see one of the girls had finished filling up a garbage bag and was shuffling over to the stall next to Beverly. She mentally cursed her unfortunate position, struggling against the hold of the girl restraining her. "Bev, watch out!" she warned, her voice shaking with wrath.

Beverly snapped her attention to the garbage bag above her head, her eyes widening as her flight-or-fight response kicked in and she flung her backpack over her head just as the contents spilled. A mixture of putrid stenches and used feminine products slid from her backpack, smacking against the tiles.

"Shit," Beverly quietly groaned as she looked down at her ruined floral dress. With a defeated sigh, she shook the backpack, the rest of the garbage slopping onto the floor.

Greta's conniving voice sounded from outside the stall. "At least now you'll smell better."

Beverly could just picture the accomplished smirk resting on her punchable face. She fought the urge to bust open the stall and punch her right in the kisser. But she didn't need to do any fighting because on the other side of the stall, Jill Samson was boiling, practically fuming from the ears.

"The only thing that smells is your shit personality," Jill spewed. She didn't give a flying fuck if the rich bitch from West Broadway tormented her day in and day out, but when she messed with her best friend, everything would go to shit. And she sure as hell wouldn't let some stuck-up girl with a brain the size of a pea treat the redhead like she wasn't worthy of the same respect every human being deserved. "Or lack thereof."

Greta's lips were tipped into a scowl as she crossed the room in a second and craned her neck to narrow her eyes at her. But she wasn't met with the normal critical brown eyes, instead, she was almost burned by the wildfire ignited in them. Jill was furious, and she was determined to let Greta know just how vexed she was.

Greta smiled that irking smile and blew her bubblegum in Jill's face, popping it with her finger. "At least I don't make out with girls under the bleachers."

Jill clenched her jaw. "Why? Afraid you'd like it?" she teased despite the way her blood boiled.

Greta made a face. "You're disgusting."

"You're no peach either," Jill scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "actually you're a bitch."

"Well, you're ugly anyway," she lamely retorted, already turning to leave.

"Oh, Greta don't be that way," the brunette called after her. "I was just offering to give you your first kiss since you obviously haven't had one yet. Really there's no reason to be so hostile."

The blonde whipped around, charging at her like an angry child who didn't get their way. Her skin flushed like she was a bomb about to explode. "People like you don't deserve to exist! Such a waste of fucking space," she spat, the malice in her words injecting Jill like poison.

"What no comeback for that one?" Greta laughed.

Jill didn't know how to respond. She couldn't. For once in her life, her loud mouth seemed to be sewed shut. She knew people hated her for what she had done under the bleachers and sticking by Beverly's side for years, but no one had ever told her she didn't deserve to live.

Without a response to trigger her rampage, Greta grew bored. She rolled her eyes and waved off the girl who was holding Jill by the arms and the other one standing by the stall. The girl restraining Jill, released her arms, letting them clamor against her legs as she joined her group of friends.

Greta gleamed, sending a smug smile the brunette's way. "Have a great summer!" she giggled, turning on the heels of her feet. But Jill wasn't done. She couldn't let Greta Keene have the last word.

With an angry grunt, Jill sprung her hand out and curled her fingers around Greta's blonde ponytail, pulling hard. "What the fuck?" Greta yelped, her body jerking backward as she lifted a hand to massage her head.

"Fuck you!" Jill seethed. "How's that for a comeback?"

"You're going to regret that," Greta bit out, reaching out to clamp down on Jill's hair. She tugged hard, but Jill pushed back with a groan.

The two of them pulled apart for a brief moment to catch their breaths before diving back at each other. Jill didn't know what possessed her, but one moment she was pushing the blonde off her and the next, her fist was slamming into her face. The sudden blow to the face jolted through Greta's body and she fell to the ground, cradling her bloody nose in her hands.

"You're fucking psychotic!" Greta shrieked, her eyes watering as blood painted her hands.

Jill barely even noticed when one of the other girls helped Greta off the tile, she was too preoccupied staring at her clenched fist. Blood smeared across her knuckles and cuts of her own had opened up. She had never punched anyone before, despite her constant threats and now that she had, she couldn't believe it. Greta had hit a nerve which resulted in a bloody nose, but if she had hurt Beverly, god knows what Jill would have done. That scared her more than she let on.

Greta stomped toward the stunned brunette and shoved her shoulder, snapping her out of her trance. "I'm going to make your life hell. If I see you or your little slut this summer, you better run," the blonde spat, turning to walk out the door with her friends following shortly behind her. Jill didn't miss the way the girls stared at her with fear in their eyes before they left.

The Samson girl wiped the blood on her worn overalls just as Beverly came out of the bathroom stall. "What the fuck happened?" Beverly asked, swiveling her head around the room in case any of the girls were lingering. "I tried to get out but one of those bitches was leaning on the door."

"Don't worry. The wicked bitch of West Broadway is gone," Jill reassured.

Beverly breathed a sigh of relief. "She sounded extra bitchy today," she commented, crossing the room to turn on the sink. She flung her bag under the running water in an attempt to get rid of the garbage and pungent smell, but it was no use. "Did she hurt you or anything?" Her eyes snapped to take in Jill's appearance, searching for any distinguishing marks or scrapes.

Jill shrugged, shaking off her concern. "You're the one she poured shit on. Are you okay?"

"I've dealt with worse and so have you. This," Beverly referenced to her sopping wet bag, "hardly ranks anywhere near to the time she hung posters all over school calling us sluts." She turned off the faucet and shook her bag, reluctantly swinging it over her shoulders. "Let's just hope we don't run into her this summer or I don't know if I can stop myself from punching her."

Jill laughed with a snort, covering her mouth with her bruised hand. Before she could register what she had done, Beverly's eyes widened and her hand shot forward, the coldness of her fingers enveloping Jill's bloody hand.

"Did you punch her?" the redhead asked, a mixture of amusement and concern fused in those blue eyes.

The Samson girl shrugged, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Only a little."

The tips of Beverly's mouth perked up into a half-smile. "Sick," she complimented, giving her friend a high-five without letting go of her bruised hand. She flicked her eyes back to the hand resting in hers and inspected the brunette's knuckles, her eyes narrowing in skepticism. "But are you sure you're okay?"

"Honestly, I'm fine," Jill insisted.

Beverly rolled her eyes. She knew the two would go on for hours arguing about whether the other was okay, but it was the last day of school, so she would cave in and let Jill win the argument just this once so she could see that triumphant smile plastered across her face. "Fine, let's go," Beverly said with an aspirated sigh. "Summer is calling our names and I won't be stuck in this shithole for another minute."

"You know what that means?" The brunette cracked a grin. She had won the arguement. "I win."

"Don't get too confident, sunshine." Beverly smiled back, her heart racing for a reason unbeknownst to her. "You know I let you win."

"If that helps you sleep at night, peaches," joked Jill as she bent down to reach for her own backpack which she had discarded on the floor of the bathroom. She threw it over her shoulder and stepped forward to lock arms with her best friend.

The two girls exited the bathroom and walked into the hall. They headed toward the back exit where they knew no perpetrators would lie, since no one really liked going through the back of the school. It was a lot harder to weave through the sea of people to make it back there anyway, so most kids just headed straight for the front entrance, discarding the back exit. Besides, the hallways were completely vacant with the exception of a few teachers conversing amongst themselves by the teacher's lounge. They gave the two girls hard glances as they passed them and made it to the back exit door. Jill rolled her eyes at them. She knew they hated the both of them. They despised Beverly for being a so-called slut, and they looked at Jill in disgust because she kissed girls instead of boys. Whatever. It didn't matter. School was out for a few months so she wouldn't have to see them for a long time.

Jill shot them a condescending look and freed her arm from Beverly's so she could flip them off before she pushed open the door and stepped outside. Humid air immediately slapped her in the face as she stepped to the side and held the door open for Beverly. Beverly laughed at Jill's expression, then looked over her shoulder to wave to the teachers staring at the two of them in shock.

Beverly tilted her head back and laughed again. "You're insane!" she exclaimed, a wide grin stretched across her face as she stepped into the open and joined Jill.

The door swung shut behind them at the same moment Jill shot her friend a lazy smile and shrugged. "They deserved it," she commented, turning around to walk down the stairs, but she halted in her actions. At the bottom of the stairs stood a boy who seemed to be around their age, holding some kind of school project in his hands. He seemed to be swaying to the music playing through his black headphones as he stared into the distance with his bike at his side. He looked familiar too, but Jill couldn't quite put her finger on it. She didn't really care either. What she did care about was getting as far away from Derry Middle School as possible and this kid was standing at the bottom of the stairs, blocking her exit.

Beverly must have shared the same irritation because one moment she was quiet, then the next she was stepping down the stairs and confronting the boy. "Do you enjoy blocking exits?" she asked. Her brows were raised high on her forehead. "Do I need to say a secret password or something to get by?"

The boy hastily turned around, his eyes wide with shock. He fumbled with the project in his hands as he tried to pry the headphones off his head. "Sorry," he sheepishly muttered, his cheeks shining red.

Beverly raised a brow. "Sorry's not a password," she said, her voice silky. The boy sheepishly smiled at her and attempted to get out of their way but it only backfired on him and he dropped his project. He tried to scramble his work in his arms, but he only did more damage and dropped his bike. The two girls stared at him, expecting him to combust, but he only shot them another awkward smile before he gathered all his belongings and moved to the side.

Beverly cleared her throat. "Henry and his goons are over by the west entrance, so you don't need to worry," she informed with a small smile playing on her lips.

Jill looked at him skeptically. What did Bowers want with him? "Bowers wants you?" she scoffed. "You better run. If he sees you . . . well . . . he'll be a bitch to outrun." As soon as the words left her lips, Beverly elbowed her in the side to silence her. Jill made a face, realizing her mistake, but she refused to apologize.

The boy's eyes widened and his cheeks faded into a bright red. "I wasn't . . . " he stuttered, glancing between the pretty redhead and the intimidating brunette with a scowl on her face. He decided she was someone he wouldn't want to talk to for long in fear she'd snap and bite his hand off like a rabid dog.

"Everyone knows he's looking for you," Beverly stated and gave a small shrug.

The conversation between Beverly Marsh and the kid continued on, but Jill's head was somewhere else. She didn't really care to talk to the kid or learn his name, so she tuned them out and averted her attention to the background of Derry. She wondered for a second if she walked far enough into the distance, if she would blend in with the rest of the dull colors which made up Derry's DNA. But she didn't ponder too long before something caught her eye.

Near the front entrance where Beverly and Jill had left their bikes, stood some boy around her age attempting to poke a hole in her bike tire. Fire consumed her veins at the sight. She clenched her fists so hard, her fingernails dug into the palms of her hand. "I'll wait for you by the front entrance when you're done, Bev," Jill spat, then she stormed off toward the kid messing with her bike before Beverly could even utter a response.

Jill marched right up to the boy and shoved his back as hard as she could. Before he could even react, she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him toward her. With her grip still on his shirt, she turned him around so she could glare daggers into his eyes. She looked him up and down, trying to figure out who he was, but she honestly had no idea who the fuck he was and she didn't really care either. She was too angry to care. "What the fuck are you doing?" she spat, baring her teeth at him.

The boy flinched and swallowed hard. It was clear he was trying not to scream, but the look in his brown eyes gave his emotions away. "Greta paid me to do it. I'm sorry," he explained, his voice meek.

Jill rolled her eyes. Of course, she did. "Where's the money?" she asked, holding out her other hand and motioning for him to hand her the money he had received.

The boy's face fell. "Really?" he asked in disappointment. "I was going to buy . . . something from the pharmacy." His cheeks shined with a bright red hue and instantly Jill knew what he was going to buy at the store. It was the same exact thing that made Jill believe all boys were gross and vile creatures.

Jill screwed up her face and pursed her lips. "And I was going to ride home on my bike, but you almost ruined that for me, so you're going to pay just in case you caused any damages," she snapped, shoving her hand toward him.

The boy groaned, but nevertheless, dug inside his pockets and pulled out a ten dollar bill. He shoved it toward her, and Jill snatched it from him with a pleasant smile on her face. She let her grip on his shirt slip, and then he was gone. She rolled her eyes and unzipped her backpack to shove the ten dollar bill inside for safety. A sigh escaped her lips as she bent down to check out her bike. Luckily, he hadn't had the chance to ruin her ride home, so there was that. Plus, she had gotten a ten dollar bill out of it, too, so she'd call it a pretty decent day.

A second later, someone came up behind her and tapped her head. Jill looked over her shoulder and squinted against the sun to see who had tapped her. Fortunately for Jill and her sanity, it was just Beverly Marsh.

Jill gave her a smile and stood to her feet. "Greta just tried to bribe some rando to pop my tire," she explained. Her face was still hot with fire from her rage.

Beverly made a face. "What a bitch."

Jill nodded. "You got that right."

The redhead gripped onto the straps of her backpack. "You should have stuck around, you know? His name's Ben," she said, referring to when they had met the boy at the back exit. It was clear Beverly liked meeting him due to the small smile plastered on her face. "He's nice."

Jill squinted her eyes. "Nice? Just nice?"

"Yes, you dork, just nice," Beverly snorted and playfully rolled her eyes, nudging Jill's shoulder slightly.

Jill shrugged. "He seemed a little annoying, but . . . "

Beverly rolled her eyes. "You think all boys are annoying," she said as she walked over to her own bike and freed it from the bike rack.

Jill nodded her head in agreement. "And dumb, and generally repulsive in every humanly possible way, but you didn't let me finish. He's a little annoying, but he's got a good heart."

An odd laugh caught Jill's attention and she found herself looking for the source of the sound. Although, she shouldn't have looked, because the source of the laughter was none other than the Bowers Gang taunting the group of boys that they labeled the Losers' Club. The Bowers Gang were a bunch of idiots that never managed to pass any of their classes and survived off of torturing the kids of Derry. Their names were Belch Huggins, Patrick Hockstetter, Victor Criss, and Henry Bowers . . . and they were all fucking psychopaths with a taste for blood.

Now, the members of the Losers' Club were different from those assholes, but Jill still despised them. She hated every single one of them. Stanley Uris, the Jewish boy who seemed to want everything to be just right. Eddie Kaspbrak, the boy whose overbearing mother turned him into a hypochondriac. Richie Tozier, the boy with glasses too big for his face and a mission to annoy Jill at every giving second. And Bill Denbrough or as the kids in Derry called him, Stuttering Bill (although Jill called him Stenchbrough for obvious reasons). They were all on her hit list. But it wasn't that she hated them or rather Bill Denbrough . . . well . . . actually she did. Why? Because he had been trying to steal her best friend's heart since they were kids and maybe she was a little jealous.

Beverly let out a tiny laugh and mounted her bike, causing Jill to tear her eyes from the group of boys being bullied by the Bowers' Gang. Jill could've helped, but one: she didn't want to and two: four against one would only end with Jill in the hospital . . . again. "Wanna' race?" Beverly asked, suddenly, tearing Jill from her thoughts.

Jill squinted at her. "What?"

"Oh, come on," Beverly pleaded, throwing her head back as a groan escaped her lips. "If I win you have to admit Pretty in Pink is a better movie than Friday the Thirteenth."

"Well, that's just stupid, because that's just not the truth . . . but you're so on," Jill remarked with a grin. She mounted her bike as well and lined up next to Beverly. "You're not gonna' win."

"You're speaking too soon, sunshine," Beverly shot back, making Jill scoff and shake her head. There was no way. Jill was too competitive to lose.

As the two girls rode onto the street, they stopped in the middle and looked at each other. Both of them looked like they were about to bounce off their seats. "Ready," Beverly began. Jill tightened her grip on the handles of her bike. "Set . . . " Beverly glanced at Jill's focused face and almost burst out into a fit of laughter, but she contained herself and before she could say the last word, she quickly sped down the road.

Jill's mouth dropped open. "What? Beverly Marsh! You didn't say to go!" she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.

Beverly laughed uncontrollably as the wind blew through her red curls and made her feel alive again. "Go!" she yelled, her laughter still in the air. Jill shook her head and took off after her.

As Jill glided down the street with the wind blowing in her hair, she felt different. She felt like she could fly or do anything she set her mind to. Beverly Marsh had that impact on her from the very first day they met on the fire escape. Beverly Marsh made Jill Samson feel invincible, and the brunette wondered if the rest of the summer would feel just as innocent and exhilarating. But she should have known, nothing in Derry could stay innocent for long and she could only stay floating in her blissful ignorance for a short period of time before the bomb dropped and nuked the whole world.

a/n: here's the new and improved the sea & the sun & meet my baby jill samson 2.0!!! this fic has come a long way and i was almost finished when i realized i didn't like how things were going, so here's to improving this story's quality for you all to enjoy!

p.s. sorry all the comments disappeared. i tried to fix it but it didn't work!

thanks for reading!