runtowardsomething | (no subject)

When Beverly first showed up here, she hadn't actually minded the Children's Home at all. If nothing else, it seemed a hell of a lot better than what she left behind, and at least she's had Eddie here with her, one little piece of a home that seems increasingly distant. Those reasons, at least, have held up. The staff here seems nice enough, and she has one of her best friends, and even some of the other kids here aren't totally awful. No one's been calling her name, anyway, her reputation as a slut firmly left behind her in Derry, as she would prefer it to stay. No, it's in other, stranger ways that her opinions on the place have started to change. Food goes bad before it's supposed to. The pipes clatter. She's seen some really gross-looking bugs, though she hasn't hesitated to just fucking stomp on them.

Perhaps worst of all, sometimes at night, when she's trying to sleep, she thinks she can hear an echo of a familiar voice whispering Bevvie, the ghost of a touch down her shoulder and arm to her waist, and then she jolts awake, gasping for air. She dismisses them as nightmares, at least in her own head, unwilling to talk about them to anyone else, but they don't feel like bad dreams. They feel real, only that's stupid, because he didn't follow her here and she knows it.

With the room otherwise empty for the time being, most of the other girls, a little older, out doing who knows what, Beverly has taken advantage of having a little time to herself, the window open a few inches so she can perch herself on the windowsill and smoke a cigarette without the teenage girls' bedroom reeking of it later. A part of her wonders if maybe she should go to Hopper's again, but she doesn't know what she would tell him. There's too much that she just can't talk about.

At the sound of someone coming into the room, she starts a little, drawing in a sharp breath and straightening her back. She relaxes almost immediately, though, when she realizes it's not one of the other caretakers but one of the other girls. "Hey," she says, a hint of a warm smile twitching at a corner of her mouth. "New kid, right?" There's nothing derogatory about it, nothing insulting. She's been here barely any time herself, though these days, she's itching to get out. Tapping ash out the window, she nods towards it and adds just slightly conspiratorially, "Don't tell on me."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, apparently you just have to keep walking out that way," Beverly says, nodding. "And eventually you just wind up doubling back without realizing it." It's strange, but strange is par for the course around here, and although maybe it should, it doesn't strike her as inherently sinister the same way some things back home did. What's happening in the Home may be a different story, but that isn't, as far as she can tell, all over the city. It's just here, and she doesn't want to scare Cosette when she's so recently arrived by going into detail about all of it.

Instead, smiling crookedly, she adds on a whim, "If you want to see sometime, I'd go with you." She has no real desire to leave Darrow, no matter how much she might miss Bill and Ben and some of the others — she'd been about to move away anyway — but that doesn't mean she has any desire to return. (If It came back, then she would in a second; her memory might be hazy sometimes, but the scar that bisects her palm is a permanent reminder of the promise she made.) "I haven't really been out that way, it might be worth taking a look."

Cosette nods. She's just been out in the garden exploring and tending to the flowers with Madame Velazquez, but she's tempted to suggest going now, her curiosity insatiable. She just wants, more than anything else, to go home. This might not get her there, but at least she'd know she tried.

"I would like that," she says instead. Company might help. They could set about it cautiously, scientifically, together, like an experiment. "Tomorrow maybe? Or this weekend, I suppose, when there is no school." She makes a slight face at that, not meaning to. She has to go back to school, and she's torn on the matter. She sees no need for her to return to classes, but she has to admit, it might be nice to learn more again instead of always reading the same old books they had in the house.

"Weekend's probably easier," Beverly says, making a face in turn. School here isn't the sort of hellscape it was in Derry, at least, but that doesn't mean she likes it. She's never really fit in, and Darrow is no exception. Then again, any time she spends in school is time she isn't in the Home, and she's been trying to spend as much time out as she can lately. Something isn't right here; she can feel it, has become increasingly aware of it, though she still doesn't want to scare the new girl by commenting on it. Besides, to do so, she would probably have to talk about things that she doesn't like talking about, not even with people she's close to. If Cosette asks, she'll tell her, but otherwise, Beverly figures it's probably better left unspoken. "As much as I wish it weren't. Are you starting classes yet?"

"Soon," Cosette says. "Next week. I have to take some tests first to see what grade I should be in." That part makes her uncomfortable, the idea of being judged by the standards of this place. She's very well educated by the standards of her day, especially for a young lady, and it seems silly to think that she might not be considered up to par here. On top of that, she finished her studies three years ago. She doesn't want to go to school with children three years younger than her to catch up, to be always behind the rest.

"I haven't been to school in a while. It is true the boys and girls go to the same school?"

"It is, yeah," Beverly says, nodding. "You know, for better or worse." She never really stopped to think about it, but it's hard not to wonder how much different things might have been if she'd gone to an all-girls school back home. Granted, she would probably have had to live somewhere else entirely — Derry wasn't big enough for that — and she might never have met the boys who became her family. She also might not have put up with years of torment and name-calling, being branded a slut so early on and never having a way to counter it. Rumors spread. Children's minds are difficult to change. "Well, I'm in 8th now, and starting high school in the fall, so depending on where you are, if you need someone to show you the ropes..."

Cosette nods. "I would like that, thank you," she says. She has a lot to learn if she's to go to school here. As frustrating as it is to be reevaluated by these new standards and to risk being surrounded by children, she has to admit, there's something exciting about it, too, going back to school. There is much to learn, and if the girls and boys go to school together, she will be allowed to learn all that the boys are taught. She has no complaints about the education she received, but at home, she's often had little to read but books she's already read and magazines she ordered about fashion. It might be nice to branch out.

"What is 8th please?"

"Oh! 8th is 8th grade," Beverly explains. "School is kind of... divided into three parts? Elementary school, middle school, and high school. Elementary is 1st grade through 5th, which is roughly 6-year-olds to 10-year-olds, middle is 6th through 8th, so 11-year-olds to 13-year-olds, and high school is 9th through 12th." She doesn't know what school was like when and where Cosette is from, making it hard to know what to add beyond that, but it's something. Anything else, she can probably just answer as needed. As it is, she's used to being from before most of the people here, not bringing someone else up to speed. It's all the more reason to want to help, but it's kind of an adjustment not to take some knowledge for granted.

Cosette nods thoughtfully, taking that in. "So I will be in high school," she says. "When I left school, I would have been in 8th." But this is a different world. As daunting as the idea of going back to school might be, part of her is still excited for the chance to learn more. She was a good student at the convent, and she'd like to think she can be again here.

"We'll only be a year apart, then," Beverly says, then smiles. At least for her, it's made a big difference, knowing at least a couple of people, even if it's only in passing. For that matter, she doesn't know what she would have done if she hadn't had Eddie in school with her. It seems to be common around here, she thinks, the sense that people who are from other places ought to stick together, and Cosette seems nice, someone she could maybe be friends with. "It's one nice thing about living in the Home, already having met some people."