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Beverly is the first person she goes to.
Beverly is sweet, Beverly is caring, Beverly is protective… but most importantly, Beverly is the only one who would understand. When she comes to her, wringing her hands, broad shoulders bent with the weight of the world, Beverly holds her palm between both of hers and tells her that everything is going to be okay. She shows her her own gaff, pulling her shirt up to reveal where it peeks out of the waist of her jeans. Small towns can be cruel, but haven’t they always been cruel to them?
Bill is the next. Bill doesn’t understand right away, but he tells her that he doesn’t need to - he doesn’t understand why Richie can’t shut up a day in his life, but he supports him anyway. He asks if she needs anything and when she tentatively replies she’d like a pair of more fitting pants, he shows up the next day with two pairs. She doesn’t see him that weekend because he has to watch Georgie while his mother buys new jeans to replace two lost pairs, she’s honestly so forgetful, how did that happen?
When she tells the rest of them, she tells them together, at their hideout in the Barrens on a Saturday morning in November. She’s expecting the worst - disgust, revulsion, hatred - but she receives a hug from each of them and then a cigarette from Richie. It takes a couple of days for their language to adjust; Richie, infamous for “bro”ing all of them, has taken to bowing dramatically, extending his hand, and crooning “Milady” in his English Gentleman Voice, and Stan slips up once or twice but always corrects himself five times (four under his breath, just until it feels right) before moving on. Ben slips her some of his allowance to furnish her growing wardrobe because he’s already almost saved up enough for the new Mario game and has decided he can always spare a couple dollars.
Eddie’s the one to suggest an endocrinologist for her after they’ve graduated (Derry High School Class of 2022), but until then, he shoots a glance at her every time she’s misgendered, looking for the go-ahead to beat the shit out of that fucker. (Most times, it isn’t given, but he tries anyway. He’s always been a little bit too eager to throw down. Richie usually joins him.) Even Stan, who proclaims to be a lovernotafighter, always one word, has rolled up his sleeves once or twice upon seeing Henry Bowers approaching.
For Christmas, they all come by the farm (even Stan, who doesn’t celebrate and looks a little uneasy, insists on at least being present while they give their gifts) with boxes upon boxes stacked in each of their arms. The ones Bill holds contain shirts - long-sleeved, short-sleeved, blouses, tees, tanks, all with a soft feminine cut. Eddie presents a box of pants, all with Old Navy tags that he explains he didn’t cut off in case she wanted to return them, but he Sharpied out the price because his mother always said you weren’t supposed to tell people how much gifts cost. Ben hands to her a much smaller box containing two long skirts (“I didn’t know if you’d like them,” he says sheepishly) and she can’t contain her smile. Beverly’s present to her is a two-pack of gaffs tied up with a yellow bow and a few worn-out training bras, and Richie is unusually somber when she opens a Sephora box. She’s blown away - this is more than she knows he can afford - but he tells her he and Stan went Dutch on it, they wanted to get her real good stuff, just in case she ever wanted to wear it, because she was really pretty without it but if it made her feel better to wear it they wanted to make sure she had it. When she tries to thank all of them, they wave it off and tell her that this isn’t even her real Christmas present, and Richie says that’s why Stan came, and Eddie tells him to shut the fuck up.
She still hasn’t chosen a name yet. Beverly sits with her behind the bleachers and tells her how she chose her name and offers her a smoke to help her think. She considers it for a long moment and then says she doesn’t want to get in trouble if they get caught. She’ll keep her teen smoking strictly in the Barrens. There are too many Real Cost ads on television for adults to be lenient nowadays. Beverly shrugs and puts her pack in her pocket and then they sit in silence for a long while, their breath smoke of its own and Beverly’s gloved hands holding hers. It’s easy to feel peaceful with Bev and she tells her that.
She thinks she might be in love.
She doesn’t tell her that.
What she does tell her, along with all the other Losers (never without a capital L in any of their minds) is that she’s so lucky to have such amazing friends. They all tell her it’s nothing, that they would support her no matter what, and Beverly takes her left hand while Stan reaches for her right. Their touches are so different - Beverly’s strong and sure, warm and comforting, a stable presence to depend on, and Stan’s delicate, graceful, tentative, almost like a question rather than a gesture. She’s grateful for them both.
She’s grateful for all of them.