A/N: There's two references in this, if you get them both I'll give you a cookie.

He walked away from Tozier breathing deeply trying to keep it even.

I hate being late. But now I'm late. Stay calm, in for 4 hold for 4 out for 4. Repeat. Stan thought to himself. Eventually he was okay and he opened the door to go into class. The teacher excused his lateness as this was the first time but Stan still hated it. He had to get to class 5 minutes early or with the rest of the class at 9am on the dot. No in between, one or the other. He went through all his classes with no other troubles, but of course avoiding the Tozier boy whenever he could.

Tozier was a bad person. He had been caught smocking twice last year, he's gotten into fights with Bowers, there's was a rumour that he got into some drama a few years ago but no one really knows, and he was probably on cocaine or some shit.

But Stan, strangely admired him for it. He didn't care if he got a black eye as long as he stood up for people and stood against the bully. If Stan did that his father heard about it (MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!) stan would be good as dead.

At the end of the day stan went to his locker to pick up his stuff. He entered the combination and was about to grab his bird book when someone pushed him into the other locker. His wrists where held on by two muscular hands and Stan winced.

"Wheres Tozier." Henry Bowers spat at him making Stan want to tear off his entire face. Stan looked at him questionably.

"What?" He had to have misheard him. He's spoken to this Tozier guy like once and now he's being questioned on where he is?

"You heard me jew, wheres Tozier." Bowers pushed him into the locker more forcefully.

"How the fuck should I know." Stan spat back. Fuck I'm screwed now. Stan thought. He had a habit of not thinking before he spoke when in situations such as these. Bowers pushes him to the ground giving a swift kick to his ribs before walking away with a glare. Stan waiting until Bowers was gone before he stood up. He inspected his ribs where there was already a bruise forming. It didn't feel as if anything was broken or cracked. He checked his breathing, it was only a mild sting when he breathed for too long but if he kept his breath regular it was fine.

"You g-good stan?" Bill Denbrough asked his friend.

"Ya, I'm fine." Stan replied grabbing his stuff. Fine. Such a strange word. Full of truth yet completely lies. Ya he was fine, but was he? Was saying I'm fine because you think everything is good and fine but really it's not and you're just used to not being fine, that you start thinking it's all fine. Being bullied and hurt, it was routine. It was fine. But was it?

"Wanna go to the q-quarry? I brought my binoculars f-for you." Bills stutter had gotten better through out the year Stan had known him. First stuttering on almost every word to only stuttering a couple (maybe none) in sentences.

"Sure. That sounds good. Remember we have to be back at-" Stan started to say but was cut off by Bill.

"6 o'clock ya ya I know. Now h-hurry I want to get there f-fast!" Bill started running towards the doors. Stan laughed and followed quickly shutting his locker before trying to catch up to his best friend.

The day ended pretty well for Stan.