Chapter Five:
"I Can Feel You Staring At Me, Stan."

( tw: drugs mentioned in one sentence )

"So, I said to him, do you know what I said to him?" Felicity shouted over the wind. She and Stan were on their way to her house to work on the project. She has gone to his house to pick him up because he didn't know her adress.

"No. No, I don't. What'd you say?" Stan asked, peddling to keep up with the fast riding girl.

"I said to him, this is the teacher, remember that-"

"Right, Mr. Wilson." Stan confirmed, following the girl onto her street.

"I said to him, "Mr. Wilson you absolute pervert what the hell is wrong with you, you fat bitch?" And that, Stanley the manley, is why I got suspended for two days." Felicity giggled, "True story, oh, and this is me."

Stan sighed, but not in annoyance as they pulled up and into her garage. "You know, that's.. really somethin', isn't it?"

Felicity pressed the button to close the garage door. "Um, just so you know.. my house isn't as nice as yours probably is.. even if you aren't rich.."

Stan rose his right brow at her, causing Felicity's heart to skip a beat. "So? I'm sure your house is fine."

Felicity giggled before speaking nervously, "Ha, right, yeah, well, uh, thanks, Stan.."

Stan silently followed her into the house, looking around at the antique objects.

"Wow.. your parents collectors?" He joked, his hands brushing the stairway rail as he followed her up the stairs.

"Uh, no.. this is my grandma's place... actually." Felicity mumbled, opening the door to her room for Stan. He thanked her quietly and moved to sit on the floor.

"You don't have to sit down there, you know. My bed is just fine." Felicity chuckled, patting the space next to her.

"O-Oh.. uh, yeah, okay." He squeaked, pulling himself up. He pulled the project papers out of his backpack.

She handed the paper to Felicity, allowing her to briefly read over it.

"Got it. So, we can do the pictures first?" Felicity stated, though it was more of a question.

Stan nodded, "Yeah, but I don't have my camera. I.. kind of forgot it.."

Felicity shrugged as she laid down on her bed. "We can just hangout then. You have to be quiet though, I'm not really allowed to have boys in my room with the door closed."

Felicity sighed, closing her eyes as the warm summer breeze blew gently through the open window.

Silence took over the room. Stan watched her, wondering what she was thinking right now. It must be something nice, because she looked so peaceful. 

"I can feel you staring at me, Stan." Felicity said, a playful smirk on her lips. Stan's eyes widened as he looked away quickly, suddenly feeling nervous.

"I was not watching you!" Stan defended quickly, "I-I was looking at your room."

"My face isn't my room, Stanley the manley." Felicity joked, opening her eyes and turning on her side to look at him.

Stan sat in silence, focusing his gaze on the floor. Finally after minutes of silence, he spoke up. "How long have you lived here?"

"Oh, like, five years. So not that long. I like it, though. Certainly a lot colder up here, though."

"Why'd you move to Derry?"

"Parents meth lab blew up." She said casually, moving to sit up.

Stan choked on his spit. "Wha- Wait.. what? Seriously?"

Felicity shrugged. "Yeah."

"Are they.. dead?" Stan asked slowly, not wanting to make the southern girl said.

"Nope. They're in jail." Felicity sighed, her mood dropping. Though this was not noticeable to Stan.

Felicity's parents had been drug addicts since their teen years. She was an unplanned pregnancy, her parents were barely twenty years old.

They took care of her as best they could, but they were usually too busy being high out of their minds to do much. Eventually, when Felicity was eight years old, child protective services came and picked her up after their meth lab exploded.

After a year long custody battle, her grandma won, surprisingly. Not that she was a bad person, she was just really old.

"Uh, right, anyways, where'd you move from? Texas?" Stan asked, changing the subject and patting his knees awkwardly.

"Yeah, Texas. And you can calm down, I'm not, like, gonna break or whatever." Felicity explained, bumping her shoulder into his.

Stan, not believing this, stayed silent. He felt bad for asking

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill the mood or anythin' like that." She awkwardly said, scratching her thigh. She regretted telling him, now believing he'd think differently of her. She didn't want that. She wanted to just be her. Not the girl with the meth head parents. Not the girl that Henry Bowers sexually assaulted. Not the girl that lived in the weird house.

No, she wanted to be known as herself. Felicity.

"You didn't! I just.. you seem so-"

"So not fucked up?"

"Yeah.." Stan scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It's okay. I hardly remember it, anyways." Felicity put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly.

Stan slowly looked over at her, his eyes trailing over her features and only then did he realize how close she was.

"You have a cool room." He squeaked, feeling nervous suddenly. He had never been this close to a girl before. Other than his mom.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I do." Felicity laughed, her hand dropping from his shoulder. "Do you wanna hang out again tomorrow? After the quarry? You can bring your camera and we can start the sketch."

Stan nodded, "Yeah, that sounds good. And, I'm sorry for Richie today. He's always like that, so.."

Felicity smiled, scanning his face. "You know, for a loser, you're pretty cute."

Stan rolled his eyes, though his face did turn a deep shade of red. "Let's keep you away from Richie. It's been a day and he's already rubbed off on you."

Felicity shrugged, "Sorry."

After that, conversation flowed easily. Stan realized that she wasn't so annoying after all, and that she was actually pretty cool to talk to.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

{ Word Count: 1067 }

{ A/n: Idk how i feel about this one tbh.
also stnlyuris- this is dedicated to you. im sorry about reading the thing about the cat wrong! }

{ Edited: No }