Chapter Text
It was bright for a February day. Sun was out, skies were blue, and birds were chirping.
Straight out of a fucking Bob Ross painting.
The redhead took another drag of her cigarette, exhaling through her mouth to distract from the pain in her chapped lips. The dry cold weather had done nothing for her sensitive skin this time of year.
School hadn’t been cancelled since the snowstorm ended in January. Lots of folks (parents) were eager to get (their kids) out of the house, having been snowed in for months. The teachers and administrators readjusted their schedules to account for students missing their courses during that time.
Which made Beverly all the gladder.
Starting high school was tough when puberty hit. Hair and zits appeared in strange places, her body started to develop curves, and she discovered the bloody joy of womanhood. When these symptoms were mixed in with bullies, academic stress, and her creepy dad, it was enough to make her scream.
Now that she was able to use school as an excuse to stay away from home as long as possible, the redhead could finally focus on other teenage things like…
Social life. Not if Greta Keene has anything to say. Okay, what about…
Puberty. Thank God for the library’s textbooks on medicine even if it took hours to get through the jargon, so that was covered. Maybe…
Academics. I’m not doing great, but I’m not doing bad either.
The fourteen-year-old looked at the burning end of the cig between her fingers and wondered about the distant future. Would her life turn around like Cinderella when she marries a prince, or would she die in an alleyway after being raped and murdered?
Why not both? Ha, ha, ha, my mind is a shitty landscape.
Then, footsteps grinded on the gravel ground near her. Beverly turned her head towards the source of the sound.
It was Henry Bowers. Without his gang.
Heart pounding and fingers trembling, the girl didn’t know whether to be terrified or relieved the boy was alone. She settled on what she hoped was nonchalance on her face and tried to ignore his nearing presence.
The boy leaned against the brick wall a few inches away from her, comfortably like he owned the whole view of the school’s back-end parking lot.
Just as Beverly brought the yellow end of the stubby cig to her lips, the boy held out his hand in front of her.
Knowingly, the girl grabbed her packet from her backpack and placed a brand-new cigarette in his palm. Henry expertly twirled the cig around his fingers until it landed between his index and middle digits.
Mesmerized, Beverly almost forgot to take out her lighter for his silent request. She was reluctant to use the cartridge since it was running low on fluid, but Henry Bowers could never be denied.
Or could he be?
In a subtle act of defiance, the girl lit her lighter halfway between the two teenagers, not towards the expecting cigarette.
A few tense seconds passed before Henry realized she wouldn’t budge. Eyebrows furrowed, his cobalt orbs gazed into Beverly’s emerald pools.
If you want it, come get it.
The boy chuckled and let out a dangerous smirk. He was entertained by her challenge, conceding to move his cigarette to her lighter, but not without his input. He placed the Camel to his lips, bringing his face alarmingly close to the dancing flame while staring at Beverly’s defiant yet curious eyes.
As soon as embers started forming, Henry leaned back against the wall and exhaled a thick plume of smoke. Beverly immediately switched off the flame and stuffed the cartridge in her pocket.
Moments strolled by in silence for the two teenagers, one debating how to make the best circumstances in her life and the other wishing to forget the troubles of his.
Little did they know they would see each other more frequently, unwittingly or not.