Stan sat up in bed. It was early that morning that he had noticed how red his eyes were in the bathroom mirror. He had been tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, and finally went to sleep at half past one o'clock in the morning. He was tired and he felt achy. It was just then after he exited the bathroom, that the phone rang from downstairs on the kitchen counter. He slunk the steps, hardly bothering to pick his feet up, past the grey sofa and into the kitchen where the telephone sat in a corner of the marble counter ringing loudly beside the microwave. He picked it up and held it up to his ear. Stan heard quiet shuffling from the other side of the call. “Who is this?¨ he asked with enthusiasm that had seen better days. “Oh. H-h-hey Stan!“ It was Bill. He sounded drastically more awake than Stan had. Perhaps he had a better rest the night before. “Oh hi.“ he tried to sound more enthusiastic than he had before. He could hear Bill chuckle quietly on the other end. “Well, I wuh-was just h-h-hoping that you were fr-free today since itʼs s-summer break.“ Stanley ran his hand through his curly hair and yawned. “Oh yeah.“ he had just remembered that it was summer break. “Do you wuh-want to come w-with m-m-me and the others t-to the b-barrens?“ he took a seat at the dining room table and stretched, his arms cracking a few times here and there. He wasn't really looking forward to being around many people.

“Sure. What time?“
“Hm. M-m-maybe at ar-around t-ten.“

Stan sighed and stood up, walking back over to the counter. “Iʼll be over at your house in about two hours.“ it was eight thirty-three. That gave him a bit of time to take a shower and eat breakfast. He definitely could not show up at Billʼs doorstep looking like this. “Oh-okay! See you th-th-then!“ Stan smiled slightly to himself. “See you.“ he said and hung up the phone. He walked over to the base of the steps and stated up the banister slowly, trying not to make as much as noise as he possibly could. He walked into his bedroom and pulled open the top drawer on his dresser, grabbing out khaki shorts, a belt, and a short sleeved red button up. When he stepped into the shower, his thoughts swam with pictures of Bill. He imagined him riding Silver along the sunny streets of Derry, smiling happily and yelling, “Hi-ho Silver awaaay!“ it was one of the only things he could say without his stutter. Bill had always cursed his stutter, but Stan hadʼnt minded it. Heʼd gotten used to it over the years he had known him. Stan ran his hands through his hair, washing out the shampoo and hair conditioner. He stepped out of the shower and began to dry his hair with a towel. Setting the towel on the marble counter beside him, he grabbed a comb out of a drawer below the sink and combed his curly hair back.
The house was still quiet when he exited the restroom. He heard occasional snores from his parentʼs room as he tiptoed down the steps. Grabbing his white high top converse on the shoe rack beside the front door, he walked over to the dining room table and sat down, unlacing them and pulling them on over his ankle high socks. He noticed one of the buttons in the middle of his shirt was unbuttoned, so he quickly buttoned it and stood, walking over to the pantry to grab a bag of instant oatmeal. Stan grabbed a small bowl out of a cabinet a few inches above him and ripped open the package of oatmeal, pouring it in, and filling it with water from the kitchen sink to what he estimated to be a quarter cup. He popped open the microwave and pushed the bowl of uncooked oatmeal in, closed the small door, and set the time for one minute. After the oatmeal was finished, he pulled it out and grabbed a spoon from the drawer just below the microwave. He sat down at the table and began to eat. The thought of summer swam into his mind again. The warm breeze flowing fluently as he rode his bike down a sunny street. The sun beaming down on him as he walked along the sidewalk of a busy downtown street. The taste of sweet ice cream on his lips. So refreshing. The oatmeal taste bland and stale. Not what he preferred, but it was better than having a bowl of cereal. After he was finished, he placed his bowl in the sink and headed into the living room. Peering up at the clock, he noticed that it was nine forty five. It took him two minutes to bile over to Billʼs house, so he had plenty of time to get over there. He unlocked the door and stepped out. It was hot and humid. The bright morning sun nearly blinded him as he made his way down the steps of his porch, to his garage. He pulled it open and rolled his bike out and onto the driveway. His curly hair began to curl even more on the humid air. He shook his head and patted down his obnoxiously curly hair. He walked his bike onto the sidewalk and hopped on, beginning to petal down the street quickly. His hair blowed in the wind, cooling him down only slightly as he petalled along. He felt a slight surge of annoyance course through his veins as he noticed he had forgotten to brush his teeth. “Dammit.“ he whispered to himself and squeezed his eyes shut as he turned onto Billʼs street. He hated himself for forgetting such a simple detail in his morning routine. He couldn't go back now. Bill would be waiting there, wondering where he was and what was taking him so long. Maybe he would ask Eddie if he had a breath mint in his fanny pack. And perhaps he did. It was the only solution he had in mind. Either that, or go an entire day with people ( Bill ) discreetly cursing him for his bad breath, because he knew his friends were too nice to say it out loud.

His house is coming up now- Only a few petals more-

He hopped off of his bike and laid it on his lawn. Quickly, Stan jogged up to his porch and knocked four times on his door. He heard Bill faintly yell, "Coming!" from upstairs. He heard footsteps coming quickly down the steps. Bill unlocked the door and pulled it open. He smiled and stepped out and onto the porch. They made eye contact for a few seconds before Bill shifted his eyes away. Stan turned around and noticed that Eddie and Richie had arrived and had placed their bikes on the lawn beside his. "Stan the man!" Richie waved and followed Eddie up and onto the porch.

Gonna have to ask him now-

Stan thought and looked over at Eddie. "Hey Stan!" he said and stuffed his asperator into his fanny pack. "Um," he said for a moment and made sure only Eddie could hear him. "Do you have a breath mint?" Eddie nodded his head.

"Sure do. Right here in my fanny pack."
"Why are we whispering?" Richie butted in.

Eddie rummaged through his fanny pack quickly and slid one into Stan's hand. He closed his hand tightly around it and stuffed it into his pocket before Bill turned to face him. He smiled slightly and looked away again. "S-s-so are y-you guys ready t-t-to g-go?" Eddie and Richie nodded and looked at eachother. Stanley nodded and looked out at the lawn, growing restless to pop the breath mint into his mouth. One by one, Eddie, Richie, and Stan made their bikes on the edge of the lawn as Bill pulled his out of the garage. Stan sat on his bike and watched the others do the same. Bill walked his bike past him, and Stan absentmindedly caught the strong and pleasant scent of his deodorant - or was it coloughne- he couldn't tell, but he liked it. Bill looked back at him. Stan tore his gaze away, a bit embarrassed at his thoughts.

But Bill can't read my mind-

he thought to himself.

So why should I be embarrassed?--

As Bill began to petal, Stan petaled single-handedly behind him, pulling the breath mint out of his right pocket, tearing the clear wrapper off of it with his teeth, and placed it on his tongue. He closed his eyes and began to savour the refreshing taste of the mint.

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