Beverly Marsh

December 15th, 1994. You were one of the Losers-scraped knees, hurt hearts, mismatched socks, and a shared understanding that the world wasn't built for kids like you.

You, Bill, Ben, Stanley, Mike, Eddie, Richie, and Beverly. The eight of you were stitched together by summers that bled into each other like watercolors. A patchwork of laughter, bruises, bike rides, and secrets no adult would ever understand, or hear.

And Beverly was the sun that warmed you all. You told yourself you didn't notice the way her hair caught the light just right, or how her laugh wrapped around your ribs and stayed there for days. You told yourself it was just admiration, just a best friend kind of love. But the truth buzzed under your skin like a robber fly in a jar. You liked her. God, you loved her. And you weren't supposed to.

You weren't a boy and liking girls-liking her -was the truth that was too sharp for the world to hold gently. It made you feel wrong in your own skin, like you were a song out of tune, a word misspelled, a secret that could never be said out loud.

But she liked Bill. Of course she did. Golden-boy Bill, with his quiet kindness and soft words that still stumbled out like skipped stones. And Bill liked her, too. It was written in the way he looked at her, like she was something he didn't quite deserve but would spend forever trying to earn.

And it was killing you.

It hollowed you out in places no one could see. You would still smile, make jokes, toss pebbles into the quarry, and pretend it didn't ache when she leaned her head on his shoulder. Pretend your chest didn't tighten when she laughed at something he said, or when she looked at him like he hung the stars.

But more than anything, you wanted her to be happy as ever.

Even if it wasn't with you. Even if it could never be with you. Even if it meant locking that part of yourself away, quiet and untouched, like it was a letter never sent.

You loved her in silence.

And sometimes, that felt like the bravest thing you'd ever done.

(You are all eighteen.)