chapter thirteen
derry does not believe in tears

☼ ☽

Derry had a reputation—it did not believe in tears. Sure, it was just like any other town, but unlike the others, tears in Derry were taboo. If a kid in the town was caught crying on the side of the road, covered in bruises and blood, the adults would look the other way. Because tears meant weakness, and Derry preferred fear.

The adults, in particular, were influenced by the town. They were afraid. Fear was the reason they steered clear of confrontation and ignored the missing persons posters plastered all over town. It was the reason they never admitted anything and only lies tumbled from their silver tongues. And they took pride in it. They went along with their mundane lives, ignoring the real terrors underneath the framework of the town. But the kids couldn't ignore the monsters in the shadows, not when their own parents were some of them.

Jill forced herself to keep her tears from spilling over her cheeks as the Losers' Club rode to the Kaspbrak residence. She couldn't have Derry thinking she was weak, not when she already knew the truth. The town had already stripped her of everything that had once given her dignity and smashed it into small particles. She felt like a ghost of herself, but she couldn't let Derry see that, at least not after it had seen her cower in fear and break down in the Well House. She had to put on a facade for the time being until she could no longer feel Derry's carnivorous eyes on her.

As the group piled into the lawn of the Kaspbraks' residence, Jill felt like someone was watching her. She quickly brushed off the feeling and hopped off her bike, throwing it to the grass yard as she side-stepped toward Beverly, cowering close to her. The other Losers followed suit and stood out of the way so Mike could lift Eddie out of the basket connected to his bike. They decided leaving Eddie's bike was better than becoming lunch to the monster, so he had to ride in Mike's basket. He set the boy down on his feet, careful not to nudge his injured arm. Jill snapped her eyes down to his arm and cringed. The skin where the bone had snapped had already begun to fade into a purple tint. His injuries made her think of her own and her hands went to her neck. The bruise was gone now, but she could still feel It's hold.

Richie crossed the distance to Eddie and lightly grasped his shoulders in his hands as he inspected the boy's injuries. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but before the words could slip from his lips, the front door to the Kaspbraks' house swung open, revealing a seething Sonia Kaspbrak.

"What the hell happened?" the woman yelled, the veins protruding in her neck. "Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?" Jill remembered Richie making a comment about how Sonia Kaspbrak kept Eddie on a short leash, so it dawned on her that the woman must have been waiting by the window until Eddie returned home. Jill thought the woman was insane, and her sudden appearance only proved her point further.

Bill was the first to break the silence. "Mrs. K—"

Mrs. Kaspbrak cut him off before he could say another word. "Eddie! Oh, Eddie, your arm!" she shrieked, pushing past the other preteens to reach her son. She balled his shirt in her meaty hand and inspected his arm before she analyzed the rest of his body for other wounds. "We'll take you to the doctor, okay? Just let me get my keys."

"Okay," Eddie mumbled. He sheepishly glanced up at the rest of the group as his mother dashed inside the house once more.

A second later, the woman stormed out of the front door with fire in her eyes. "You!" She jabbed a finger at the other kids and gritted her teeth, her eyes fuming with anger. She balled her hand around the collar of her son's shirt and pulled him close. "You know how delicate he is!" Her face faded into a bright red as she jutted out her jaw and shook her head at the group of preteens.

Bill stepped forward, obviously a little shaken up. "We were attacked, Mrs. K," he mumbled. His eyes shifted to the Kaspbrak boy, but Eddie couldn't meet his gaze. His attention was focused on the pavement below his shoes as he kicked a small rock.

Mrs. Kaspbrak seemed to be boiling. She shut her eyes tightly and exhaled through her nose. "No," she spat under her breath, her voice like poison. She opened her eyes, narrowing her glare at the leader of the group, Bill Denbrough. "Don't try to come up with excuses. And don't try to blame anyone else." She whipped around and tugged open the car door, throwing Eddie inside.

Eddie fell into the car as he gnawed on his bottom lip and cradled his arm, but he kept his head low and refused to meet any of his friends' eyes. His mother continued muttering under her breath as she slammed the car door shut. Eddie flinched. Sonia didn't notice, instead, she went on fumbling with her keys, but due to her frazzled state, the keys slipped out of her hands and smacked the ground.

Beverly bent down, reaching for the keys as if guilt was driving her forth. "Let me—"

"Get back!" Sonia Kaspbrak screeched, snatching the keys from the pavement before Beverly could even blink. The woman retracted her hand, clutching the keys in a tight grip as if someone would steal them if she didn't hold on tight enough. Then her eyes were on Beverly, and she was as red as a cherry once again. She glanced Beverly up and down as if she was another dirty rag left to wash clean. She scoffed, stepping forward until Beverly could almost feel her hot putrid breath on her cheek. "Oh, I've heard of you, Miss Marsh . . . and I don't want a dirty girl like you touching my Eddie."

Beverly stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to make herself disappear. Jill glanced at her, and something snapped. Her blood boiled like hot lava coursing through her bloodstream. She was sure if she punctured her skin, her blood would set the world on fire. She clenched her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms to cut off the fire's circulation, but it was no use, she was already nuclear. She took a step toward the woman, the taste for vengeance on her mind, but a cool hand yanked her back. Her eyes drifted to the person, finding Richie shaking his head at her. He knew she'd do something she'd regret if she laid a hand on the woman because he knew Jill. He knew she wasn't good at emotional stuff. Except anger. She was good at anger.

Bill brought her out of her own mind. "We wuh—wuh—were just trying tuh—to help," he muttered, his brows raised high on his forehead and lips in a slight droop. Jill looked to him, and for the first time, she didn't hate him.

"No!" Sonia Kaspbrak screeched. "You are all monsters! All of you!" She jabbed her meaty finger at the group, and this time Jill felt her anger consume her.

Jill stepped forward before Richie could stop her. "You're one to talk," she spat.

Mrs. Kaspbrak finally glanced down at Jill who stood taller than all the Losers, and glared. Her eyes shrunk into slits as she bent down to look the girl in the eyes. "What did you say?" she bitterly asked through gritted teeth.

"I said," Jill sneered, narrowing her eyes, "you're a real bitch!"

The older woman laughed. Not a nice laugh filled with gasps and a warm undertone. It was the type of laugh that sparked goosebumps across your skin and gave you nightmares. "Well, I'll be . . . " she trailed off, shaking her head as she placed her hands on her wide hips. "If you had a mother, she'd tell you young ladies shouldn't curse."

Jill's jaw locked. "Get fucked."

The older woman blinked, but she quickly gathered herself and leaned closer. "Listen, little girl," Mrs. Kaspbrak spat, "I've heard of you, too. The girl who kisses other girls under the bleachers and in the bathroom stalls. You're an abomination and I don't want you near my boy." She glanced at the dried blood under Jill's bruised nose. "I see someone else shares my thoughts." She tapped her nose, then pointed at Jill's.

Jill furrowed her brows as her hand drifted to her nose. She dabbed the dried blood and picked it off like a scab. It had stopped bleeding long before they entered the Well House, and with the events of the house consuming her consciousness, she had almost forgotten she smacked her nose on the floor of Bill's garage. But that didn't matter. Sonia Kaspbrak thought someone had punched Jill in the face for liking the same gender, and she thought she deserved it. And that was enough to piss the girl off.

Sonia Kaspbrak tore her eyes from the brunette and looked at the rest of the group. "You're all monsters," she spat, turning around to walk to her side of the car.

"What about you?" Jill yelled before the woman could retreat inside her car. She was boiling again, her blood burning her veins. "What about the things you've done to him? The trauma you've caused him? He's afraid of everything because of you. Because of you, he believes he's a freak. But he's not!" Her eyes drifted to Eddie who sat in the car with his head slumped to his chest. "Eddie's not a freak. He's brilliant. He's always there to help us when we get hurt. He could be a doctor, you know? Like a good one. Hell, he's bandaged my hand multiple times this summer. And not only that but he's brave, too. And he's also my friend . . . a really fucking great friend, but he doesn't see that because of you and what you've been doing to him his entire life." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and locked eyes with the Kaspbrak woman. "Say what you want about me, but you're the real monster."

Mrs. Kaspbrak's eyes narrowed into slits as she shot daggers at the girl. "Don't you ever speak to an adult like that again! Now Eddie's done with you! You hear? Done!" she shouted as she stuffed herself into her car and slammed the door before she revved the engine and drove down the street. The Losers trailed after the car, but halted in the middle of the road and watched as the burnt yellow car disappeared into the distance, blending in with the background of Derry.

Silence wrapped its cold embrace around the seven Losers, sending shivers down their spines as they stared into the distance, expecting Eddie Kaspbrak to come running down the road. But Eddie never came back, and the silence grew lethal. Jill felt something trickle down her fingers. She brought her hand up to inspect, discovering her fingernails had punctured the soft skin of her palms and drawn blood. She exhaled unsteadily and wiped the blood on her flannel shirt.

As the seconds droned on, the group began to become impatient. Each of them looked around at each other, beckoning for one of them to speak. Bill broke the silence first. "I saw the well," he said, turning to look at the group with determined eyes. "W—W—W—We know where it is and next time . . . we'll be better prepared."

"No!" Stanley yelled, finally bursting. His hands were balled into fists at his sides as he strained his neck. "No next time, Bill. You're insane." It looked as if he was holding back tears as his lanky body shook and his bottom lip trembled.

Bill turned to face him. "Why?" he asked, his voice stern and solemn. "W—W—We all know nobody else is guh—go—going to do anything." His eyes brimmed with tears, a clear indicator that his emotions were spiking off the charts.

Jill shook her head. "Bill, you saw It." She locked eyes with him, and he understood. "You saw It. It wants us dead." She breathed out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, thinking back to the events that happened inside of the Well House. "I didn't want to say anything before, but I stabbed It in the heart back there and when It was . . . leaving . . . It turned to me and tapped its heart." She fluttered open her eyes and stared at Bill. She needed him to understand. "It won't stop until we're all dead, and if we go back, It'll succeed." She puffed out her cheeks and blew out air. "So this is over, Bill. Give it up . . . if not for your own safety then for ours."

"We have to do something, Jill," Beverly sternly stated, her brows creased together on her forehead. "We just have to . . . otherwise are we any better than that monster?"

Jill shot her a look and opened her mouth to reply, but Richie beat her to it. "No more," he spat, shoving his glasses up the slope of his nose. "Eddie was nearly killed! And look at this motherfucker—" he gestured to Ben's oozing stomach— "he's leaking hamburger helper!"

Ben blushed and Beverly scoffed. "You don't have to talk about him like that. He's a person, Rich." She rose a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. "Besides, we can't pretend It's going to go away." Her eyes flickered back to Ben and she nodded in his direction. "Ben, you said yourself . . . It comes back every twenty-seven years."

Ben glanced at Beverly. "Fine!" he muttered, his voice stern. It was the first time Jill had ever really heard him angry. "I'll be forty and far away from here." His eyes softened the longer he stared at the red haired girl. "I thought you said you wanted to get out of this town, too."

"Because I want to run towards something," Beverly expressed, "not away!"

Richie rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, but who invited Molly Ringwald into the group?" Beverly shot him a blank look and gave him the middle finger, which caused Richie to scoff and shake his head. "I'm just saying, let's face facts . . . real world! Georgie is dead!" His eyes snapped to meet Bill's. "Stop trying to get us killed too!"

Richie made an advance to push past Bill, knocking his shoulder as he past. This didn't sit well with Bill as he grabbed the boy's arms and shoved him backward. "Wuh—We have to do this!" he spat, shoving a finger at Richie.

Jill stepped forward. "We can't, Bill," she spat. Her anger was growing. "Richie's right, okay? We can't risk our lives for this. This is bigger than us . . . than all of us . . . even when we're together." She briefly thought about what she had said to Stan about the birds surviving on their own, and guilt tugged at her. What a lying piece of shit she must have looked like now.

"Come on guys," Mike cut in, trying to defuse the argument. "Let's all just calm down."

Bill ignored him and shoved his finger at Jill. "You're oh—only saying that to dis—dis—disagree with me!" he blubbered, and perhaps there was some truth to his words, but even Jill knew that was not the sole reason. She didn't hate him as much as she did at the start of the summer. He had saved her life, and that counted for something.

Jill rolled her eyes. "No," she retorted, "I'm saying it because no matter how much I want to punch you every single day, I don't want you dead! Despite what you think, Bill, I don't hate you. And I don't want you to die like those kids." She paused for a moment as silence consumed her, and then it dawned on her what she had just said. She squeezed her eyes closed. Fuck. She should have kept her mouth shut. "What I mean is—" she opened her eyes and stared at the other preteens— "I don't want any of you to end up like Georgie."

"Georgie's not dead!" Bill shouted.

"He is Bill!" Jill shouted back, taking a step toward him. "I know it's hard, but you have to let him go or it'll kill you. You have to let him go, okay? I know you don't want to. I know you love him, but we've all lost someone. And we all know how much it fucking hurts, but you can't risk your life for a ghost."

Bill was silent for a moment. "Wuh—What if it was Bev?" he pegged the question in a low voice.

An image of the Beverly from her hauntings flashed before her eyes. Jill had seen her die once before, and she knew it would break her if it actually happened in reality. "Don't," she warned, her voice weak and brittle.

Bill opened his mouth, but Richie interrupted him. "Leave Jill alone, Bill!" he spat, stepping toward the boy. "Just face it. You couldn't save Georgie, but you can still save yourself."

Bill stormed over to Richie and shoved his shoulders. "No! Tuh—T—T—Take it back!" he shouted. "You're scared and we all are, but take it back!"

Mike tried stepping between the two. "Guys—"

But Richie didn't hear him, his ears were clogged with smoke. "You're such a loser!" he yelled, and shoved Bill's shoulders, making the boy stumble backward into Ben, who moved out of the way. "You're a bunch of losers, trying to get us all killed while catching a clown!"

Bill quickly stabilized as the anger inside him bubbled. Veins were popping out of his neck as he balled his hands into fists at his sides. His knuckles faded into the color of ivory and he had begun to breathe heavier as he stood in silence and shook in anger. Then everything was moving too fast and the next thing the group saw was Bill swinging his fist at Richie's face. His knuckles collided with the boy's face, knocking the Tozier boy to the ground. As Richie smacked the ground, his head hit the pavement and his bulky glasses fell from his face, skidding across the road. He scrambled to his feet and charged at Bill, punching him in the face while Mike and Stan desperately tried to peel the two boys apart.

"Stop!" Beverly screamed, her voice echoing throughout the empty street. The boys managed to pull Richie and Bill apart as they all stopped to stare at the ginger. Even the birds had ceased their singing. "This is what It wants!" She glanced at the remaining Losers with her hands stretched out at her sides. "It wants to divide us. We were all together when we hurt It. That's why we're still alive!"

Richie tore himself from Stan and Mike. "Yeah, well, I plan to keep it that way," he spat, pushing past Bill to reach his bike. He grabbed his bike and hopped onto it, but then something dawned on him and instead of taking off, he sat there with his head in his hands.

The others looked at Richie then glanced back at Bill, before they shook their heads and retreated to their bikes. Stan was the first to go. He briefly made eye contact with Jill before he turned around and headed for his bike. Then, he was gone, blending into the dull background of the neighborhood. Ben went next. He glanced back at Beverly who was too busy staring at Bill, which gave him the motivation to hop on his bike and peddle home. That was when Mike gave a sigh and began to walk to where his bike rested in the grass.

"Mike," spoke Beverly as she tried to reach out to him, but he backed away.

Mike turned around and put his hands in the air. "Guys, I can't do this," he muttered as he reached his bike and hopped onto it. "My granddad was right. I'm an outsider . . . gotta' stay that way." He managed to give them a small smile before he kicked off and peddled down the road, leaving the sea, the sun, and the moon in between to deal with the aftermath.

Jill glanced at the two preteens beside her, and saw them staring at each other. That was when the anger spread its disease to her heart. She scoffed. "For the record, Bev, we're still alive because you shoved a bar into It's head," she spat, gaining their attention. "If you can't see that this is a bad idea and if you can't see that this will get you or one of us killed, then I can't protect you from that."

Beverly crossed her arms over her chest. "Jill—"

Jill cut her off. "Look—" she said in a stern voice— "I just can't watch as you kill yourself. It's a suicide pact and I can't . . . I can't do it. I just can't."

"We can win."

Jill shook her head. "Not without a price." She tore her gaze away from Bill and Bev and glanced across the street at Richie Tozier who was sitting on his bike with his head in his hands. She furrowed her brows at him, wondering why he was still there, then it dawned on her that Bill had knocked his glasses off his face during the fight. The boy was unable to see two feet in front of him. If it were any other time, Jill would have laughed, but instead, she found herself searching for the glasses. She caught sight of them and bent down to clasp them in her calloused hands.

Beverly spoke up again. "Jill, if you just . . . "

Jill glanced at her. "I have to go," she mumbled, dropping the glasses in the front pocket of her overalls. "I promised my dad I'd be home before noon, so he's probably wondering where I am." She didn't even care that she had just lied as she turned around and approached the Tozier boy.

Richie still sat on the seat of his bicycle with his head buried in his hands as he gripped his curly hair. There were bruises forming on his knuckles from when he punched Bill in the face, but they would probably fade within the week if he didn't damage it any more. Jill knew this. Actually she had gotten used to watching the bruises on her skin fade back to a healthy peach. Richie didn't seem like the type to deal with many bruises.

As if the boy could feel her eyes burning holes into his head, he glanced up and met her gaze. "What?" he groaned and squinted his eyes, trying to sort out the blurry figure into a person he recognized. He could tell by the jean overalls and flannel tied in the front that the person standing before him was none other than Jill Samson. "Did you come to force me to join the revolution?"

Jill blinked. "No, I just . . . here are your glasses," she said, pulling his glasses out of her front pocket and shoving them toward him.

Richie looked at her skeptically before he grabbed the glasses from her and shoved them on his face. "Thanks," he muttered as he gripped his bike handles.

Jill looked at him as if she were analyzing him. She had never seen him so close in the entirety of the summer, and she noticed he had freckles dotting his nose. It wasn't an important discovery. She just didn't realize he had freckles, and now she did. "Tozier?" she asked before she even realized his name had fallen from her lips.

Richie glanced at her in confusion. "Yeah?" he questioned.

"Are you going to the Arcade?" Jill asked. She knew he spent most of his time at the Arcade than at his own house. She had yet to learn the reason he practically slept at the Arcade, but she figured it wasn't any of her business, so she kept her mouth shut. But maybe the Arcade was his way to relieve stress, and Jill really needed to find a way to release her anger without setting the entire world on fire, so she decided why not give the Arcade a go. Besides, it wasn't like she was actually going to go home. It wasn't like her father was going to be there anyway. He'd get there sometime during the night, not in the middle of the afternoon.

Richie squinted his eyes. "Uh . . . yeah . . . I guess?"

Jill felt awkward. Clearly, the boy was not in the mood for jokes . . . for once. "Can I come with you?" she mumbled. "I just . . . I really don't want to be alone after all . . . that."

Richie looked at her for a second . . . like really looked at her before he gave a nonchalant shrug. "If you want," he said, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But it won't be any fun for you . . . I'm a legend there."

Jill snorted. "Oh, yeah?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her father once told her crossing her arms disconnected her from people, but at the moment, Jill was beginning to feel the weight lift from her shoulders. "Legend of what? Losing?"

A smile lifted onto Richie's face. "Yeah, keep on smiling, but when I beat you in StreetFighter you'll be sorry."

The brunette girl rolled her eyes and walked over to grab her bike. She mounted it and peddled over to Richie, riding circles around him. "I think you'll be the one who's sorry," she teased and flipped him the middle finger as she rode one more circle around him then took off down the street toward the Arcade. She could hear Richie scoff and she glanced over her shoulder to see the boy racing after her, which only made her pick up her pace.

As they entered into town, Jill slowed down enough for Richie to catch up to her so they were riding beside each other. Jill would have closed her eyes and basked in the sunlight if there wasn't the possibility she'd crash into a brick wall or a bystander. She settled for inhaling the sweet scent of the summer air and reveling in the feeling of the wind brushing through her hair. However, her comforting silence all came to an end when Richie broke it. "How's your nose?" he asked suddenly, ripping Jill from her blank thoughts. "Is it broken or . . . ?"

Jill tilted her head back and groaned. Her nose hurt a little if she was being honest, but she figured that was just some sort of placebo effect. Either way, she'd never admit that to the boy. "It's fine," she murmured, gripping harder onto her bike handles.

Richie snapped his eyes to her white knuckles. "Liar," he spat back, gripping harder onto his own handles.

Jill peered at the boy out of the corner of her eye. "How's your head?"

Richie shrugged. "Fine."

Jill sent him a look. "Liar," she spat under her breath.

The two rode in silence together, laughing occasionally when a joke would come up or when Richie would say something stupid. It was nice, Jill decided. Maybe she had judged Richie a little too harshly. She had been realizing that a lot lately. First with Stan at the Quarry when he was nothing but nice to her. Then with Ben and Mike. Later Eddie. Now, Richie. Bill was still on her hit list, but he had saved her life, and she couldn't help but feel an ounce of respect for him. So, yeah, maybe the boys weren't so bad, and maybe if she would have just gotten her head out of her ass, she would have realized that sooner. Jill shook her head and scoffed. She was such an asshole, it was almost laughable.

The Arcade came into view, standing before them in all its glory. It was located downtown near the park with the stage where the townspeople used to project movies. But Jill tried to forget about that fact so she wouldn't have to think of her mother, and instead, she focused on the Arcade coming up ahead. The paint slathered onto the building was chipped and faded, giving the Arcade a vintage appearance, and the letters spelling out the word ARCADE had been knocked down, now only spelling out RADE. And to top it all off, the Arcade was wedged in between a laundromat and a small apartment building. Richie didn't seem to mind as he peddled faster toward the building. He skidded to a halt in front of the Arcade and hopped off his bike, throwing it to the ground. Jill followed after him, although she was a little more hesitant.

Richie whipped around and stared at the girl. He analyzed her face for a second before he furrowed his brows in confusion. "What?"

Jill snapped her eyes to his. "Nothing." She shrugged and glanced back up at the building. "I've just never been here before." She thought for a moment how going into the Arcade would have been the first time she had ever been there before. It would have been the first time she ever played arcade games and wasted countless hours trying to get her name at the top of the best score list. And then it dawned on her, she'd be doing this for the first time without Beverly. She had always done everything first with Beverly, but this . . . this she had to do without her.

Richie's shoulders slumped. "Okay, what is it?"

"What?"

"There's obviously something on your mind," he said, waving his arms in the air for emphasis, "so go ahead. Tell me."

Jill glanced at Richie as she mentally battled with the decision to either tell him all about how she missed her best friend more than anything and she just wanted to turn around and run back to her. She wanted to say how she didn't care about the clown or anything else, she just wanted her best friend. But ultimately, Jill never had been one to keep her feelings to herself and she found herself stepping forward. "I think I'm in love with someone who will never love me back. And I'm just trying to protect her, but she just won't listen . . . and I'm afraid I'm going to lose her." she rushed out as tears pricked her eyes. She quickly blinked them away. "And that terrifies me because I can't lose her. I just . . . I don't know what I'd do if that happened."

"Oh," was all Richie said. He wasn't surprised Jill was crushing on a girl, after all, the whole town knew that about the girl and they hated her for it. But he didn't expect her to confess those things to him, especially since she had been so adamant about her distaste toward him. Then he thought of his crush, and he understood. "I mean . . . I get it. I'm sort of in the same situation I guess, but have you told her how you feel?"

"No, if I did, it would ruin everything," Jill weakly muttered, tightening her grip on her bike handles.

Richie shoved his glasses up the slope of his nose. "But would it?" he suggested. "How do you know it wouldn't solve everything?

Jill furrowed her brows in thought. Maybe Richie Tozier is right for once, she thought. "I guess I don't."

"Then what's stopping you?" Richie asked, but Jill didn't reply.

Jill thought for a moment about what he had suggested then it dawned on her that she already knew the answer to his question, and it wasn't one he wanted to hear. It was the same reason he had yet to spill his feelings—fear. "I assume the same thing that's stopping you," she said softly, kicking a rock near her foot.

"Right," Richie mumbled, tilting his head to the ground in thought. He was silent for a few seconds, a sign he was trapped in his thoughts. "Do you really think we'll never see Eddie again?"

Jill shrugged. "His mom will probably come around after his arm's healed."

Riche glanced up at her. "I guess. It's just . . . he's my best friend, you know?" he mumbled nonchalantly, but his eyes told a different story. "I just . . . I don't know what I'd do if I lost him." He tilted his head so his eyes were trained on the pavement below his shoes. It was obvious he was trying to avoid eye contact with the girl, but she had no idea why.

Jill analyzed him as his words repeated in her head. She was trying to figure out why he was acting so skittish and awkward . . . then it dawned on her. He didn't want to lose Eddie, just like she didn't want to lose Beverly. She felt stupid for not noticing it before. "Oh!" was all she said as her eyes flung open with understanding. "You like—"

Richie snapped his head up as his eyes widened into saucers. "Wait, Jill, that's not what I meant . . . I . . . " he stammered. Sweat had begun to form into salty beads along his brow and across his skin, making it unbearable to stand under the summer sun. He wiped his palms on his jeans and refrained from smacking himself on the forehead.

The Samson girl quickly shook her head and let herself emit a small laugh. "Calm down," she said in a low pleasant voice, trying to ease his nerves. "It's me you're talking to." She shook her head as a small smile lifted onto her face. She would have never guessed Richie Tozier, the same boy who had been hounding her to go on a date with him since the sixth grade, to be like her. Sure, they were both loud and obnoxious, but this was something different. This similarity was something special. It made Jill's heart grow warm, because for the first time in all her life, she had met someone going through the same thing as her.

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and slowly breathed out air that he had locked in his lungs. He opened one eye but kept the other closed. "So . . . you're not going to tell anyone?" he asked, his voice consumed by anxiety.

Jill shook her head. "Of course not," she immediately said. She would never put Richie through what she had to go through for the past year since Greta saw her kiss Jane Graves and told the whole school Jill was different from the other girls. She wouldn't wish that type of pain on her worst enemy, especially Richie, who really wasn't that bad at the end of the day. "So it's him, huh? The person you're afraid to love?"

The boy nodded, opening his other eye to stare into her brown ones. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it, until Jill thought he might grow gills and turn into a fish. But then it seemed he finally found his voice, and he opened his mouth to express the war raging on inside his head. "That's why I've always flirted with you, you know?" he said as he adjusted his glasses on his face. "Because I . . . I can't have anyone know . . . and I knew you liked . . . not boys, so I flirted with you because I knew you'd never flirt back. I knew you'd reject me and that way nobody would know I was like . . . this."

Jill found herself smiling. Of course. It all made sense now. "Well, it worked," she assured humorously. "I just thought you were a major creep."

Richie laughed. It was loud and abrasive, but it had a warm undertone to it. It was comforting in a way, thought Jill. She found it contagious, and pretty soon she was laughing too. But then Richie's laughter died down and a small frown replaced his wide smile as he sheepishly looked to the ground. "Look . . . I'm . . . I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable . . . I guess. I just . . . it's hard, you know? I just couldn't have anyone knowing about me," he explained as he glanced up to meet her gaze. "I know you wouldn't get it because everyone's known about you since like sixth grade and it's probably easy to deal with now, but it's fucking scary."

Jill's smile slowly fell down her face as she processed Richie's words. She wanted to yell at him for being insensitive and saying such things to her, because believe her, the fact that Derry knew she kissed girls and not boys was terrifying. When everyone first found out, she cried for weeks and refused to go to school for a while. The people at school just didn't understand. They called her names, spit on her when she walked by them in the halls, and she had even received a few bruises from their unruly wrath. She just couldn't understand why they would do such things. That was the part that got her. She just didn't understand. She understood now. The town of Derry and possibly the entire world was filled with hate, and they always would be.

A sigh escaped Jill's lips as she lowered her eyes to her hands. She toyed with her fingers for a few seconds before she folded them across her chest and squinted her eyes at the boy. "It's not easy, you know?" she said, her voice wavering as she spoke. "I know they mostly just look at me like I'm the most disgusting thing in the world and call me names and stuff, but . . . last year, something bad happened." Flashes of the incident appeared before her eyes. She never talked about it and she rarely thought about it. Thinking only made it worse, anyway, so she didn't. "I don't know if you remember, but I was out of school for a few weeks during the winter."

Richie nodded then shrugged. "Yeah," he acknowledged, confusion flooding his features. "They said you had a really bad flu."

Jill gave him a pained smile. "That's what my dad told the school, but um . . . " she trailed off. A lump had begun to form in her throat, constricting her breathing and ability to talk, but Jill swallowed it and cleared her throat. "So I was riding to this place I always go to to get out of my head and these boys . . . boys who I had never seen before knocked me off my bike and started calling me these names." She unsteadily breathed in, then out through her nose. "You know? The usual. They kept calling me a lezzie and they kept saying how I was disgusting and all that. And I thought if I just laid there they'd eventually leave me alone, but they didn't. When they realized I didn't care what they called me, they started to get violent. I don't even remember what happened. I just remember waking up in the hospital with a few broken bones and my entire body was in so much fucking pain."

"Shit," Richie swore. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Jill shook her head and ignored his question. "When I finally got to go home, I looked at myself in the mirror and there were bruises . . . everywhere," she hoarsely whispered as she fought the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks. "The doctors said I could have died." She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to get the images of the boys' faces out of her head. She replaced their hateful faces with the stars that formed when she squeezed her eyes too tight. The stars made it better. She found that out a while ago. "And I was so embarrassed, I didn't go to school for a long time. I didn't even tell Beverly. I lied and said the flu was so bad that she had to stay away. So no Rich—" her eyes fluttered open— "it's not easy for me. It was never easy. But I won't hide from the truth because it's a part of who I am and I can't let this town take anything else from me."

Richie shook his head as if he was trying to comprehend what she had just admitted to him. "I'm sorry," was all he said at first. It seemed to be the only thing he could say. "Fuck. I'm so sorry." He shook his head, tilting his eyes to the ground to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "I just . . . I'm really fucking scared."

Jill nodded in understanding. "But you know . . . Eddie's not like that, right?" she asked in a calm voice. "He wouldn't hurt you, I mean."

"Yeah, I know," he said, finally lifting his teary eyes to meet hers. "But he doesn't feel the same." He shrugged as a pathetic laugh escaped his lips. "I'm an idiot, aren't I?" He shook his head as if trying to relieve himself of his thoughts. But instead, a few tears spilled over his cheeks, signifying the thoughts were still very much present and plaguing his mind. He scoffed and angrily wiped them away.

Jill ran her eyes over the boy and her heart ached for him. She knew exactly what he was going through and how much it hurt to feel so alone in the world. She never wanted anyone to feel like that, but she couldn't relieve him of that feeling, only he could. But she could let him in on something she had learned last year when the town decided she was a lost cause. "You wanna' know a secret, Rich?" she abruptly asked, tearing Richie from his thoughts.

His teary eyes snapped to hers. "What?"

"Derry does not believe in tears," she said in a low voice so only he could hear. She didn't want the town to hear the words leave her lips. "Don't let it see you cry. You can be scared and you can be angry, but never let it see you at your weakest. If it knows, it'll use that against you until one day you'll look in the mirror and the person staring back at you will be someone you don't recognize. Wait until you're alone; until you can't feel its eyes on you anymore, then you can cry." A smile found itself onto her face after her secret escaped her lips. "So . . . how about let's suck it up and go play some games?"

Soon Richie was smiling too. "You're on," he wiped his blotchy cheeks and gave her a curt nod. "I'm going to end you." He turned around and marched toward the Arcade's front door, standing before it as he waited for her.

Jill scoffed. "Just you wait, Tozier!" she shouted, a laugh ripping through her vocal cords. "I'm gonna' be your worst nightmare." She walked her bicycle over to the side of the building and rested it against the wall. She began to turn and meet Richie, but something . . . or rather someone caught her eye.

Sitting on the dirty floor of the alleyway between the Arcade and the laundromat was a young man, although you probably couldn't have been able to tell his age from his appearance. He looked so familiar, yet she couldn't figure out where she had seen him before. His pale face was ghostly and withered like he was deteriorating into a corpse. Scabs riddled his stark skin, making him look sickly and twice his actual age. There was some semblance of a young man under his wrinkled skin, but that man appeared to be consumed by the monster sucking the life out of his body.

He must have felt Jill's intense stare since one minute he was staring at the wall in front of him, then the next his eyes were meeting hers. A smile slithered onto his face, revealing deteriorating yellow teeth. Jill cringed, but she couldn't tear her eyes from his. As she stared, his smile grew and he lifted his hand to wave at her before he reached into the back pocket of his jacket and pulled out a needle filled with a brownish-yellow liquid. Jill shifted uncomfortably as the man took off his shoe and inserted the needle into the sole of his foot, injecting himself with the poison. His head lolled backward, but the smile never left his face, instead, it only grew as his eyes connected back to hers. He shoved the needle back into his pocket then slowly moved his hand to point above his head. Jill followed his finger with her eyes until she saw what he was pointing to.

Her eyes trailed over the words on the brick wall above the man's head. Stop now before I kill you. A word to the wise from your friend, Pennywise, she read inside her head as fear bubbled in her chest. It or Pennywise or whatever the fuck that thing called itself was sending her a message. It wanted her to stay away and it would keep reminding her of what would happen if she didn't. It would remind her of the future ahead of her.

"Jill!" Richie suddenly yelled, tearing her from her thoughts. Jill snapped her eyes to his. "I've been calling your name for like a minute . . . are you coming or what?"

Jill didn't speak, instead, she hesitantly tore her eyes from the man and stepped away from the scene until she was immersed inside the Arcade, but the image of the man stayed tattooed in her mind. The needle, the look on his face, the message, all of it clouded her thoughts. She wondered if It was right. She wondered if she had seen herself in the man's eyes and that was the reason he looked so familiar. All of it made her want to break down and cry. Jill shook her head at her thoughts. Don't cry, she warned herself. You know what Derry thinks of tears.

a/n: i told you guys the jill and richie brotp would bloom, but please no one ship them!! i've had that problem in the past and i would just like to say, jill is lesbian. she likes girls, not boys. && richie's gay,,,, so idk why you'd ship them anyway.

also i'm so sorry this is so fucking long jesus. you don't have to read it all in one sitting. i totally understand, but here's chapter thirteen. there are five more chapters left. :(

n e wayz, please remember to vote & comment!! i love hearing from you guys and it keeps me motivated to write!!

thanks for reading!