| Stanley Uris |

It was the last day of hell. Finally. The air outside felt different, warmer, freer, like summer had been waiting on the front steps for them. The Losers spilled out of the building together, sun hitting their faces, backpacks dragging at their shoulders.

They made their way toward the trash cans lined up by the bike racks, each one dented and covered in old stickers. Without hesitation, they started dumping their bags like a ritual they’d been waiting all year for.

"Best feeling ever." Stan said, voice higher, lighter, practically glowing with that big grin on his face.

"Yeah? Try tickling your pickle for the first time." Richie interjected, being the total goofball of a kid he normally was.

They all roll their eyes, used to his dirty humor and started walking when all of a sudden Henry Bowers grabbed Richie by his bag and yanked him backward, shoving him straight into Stan.

Patrick Hockstetter grabs Stanley's Kippah that fell off, "Nice frisbee, flamer." Patrick says with a grin before throwing it onto the moving bus.

---

You were just sitting there, on your way home listening to "You've Got It (The Right Stuff)" by New Kids On The Block, when the Kippah just so happened to land straight in your lap. You looked at it, then out the window, seeing the infamous Bower's gang terrorizing them.

You took your headphones got up, making the bus driver stop and let you off. You walked over to them just as the Bower's gang started walking off, and looked at Stanley for a second. He was obviously upset, and a little stressed knowing his dad would be pissed he lost it.

"Well, well, well! Stan don't piss your pants just yet, seems you've got a guardian angel looking out for ya." Richie says, looking over at you.

Stanley looks up, and freezes at the sight of you. He wouldn't of expected somebody that looks like.. Well you, to be kind to a shy, sappy, loser like him. "I uh- Thank you.." He stammers out, still caught off guard by your presence.