Chapter Text
Billy’s always hated school, ever since his very first day.
He really doesn’t understand the point of it; everything is good until the day his mom gets him up early, brings him to a big square building and tells him she’s going to leave him there.
He’s looking over at the place, at the kids darting around in the yard and he thinks it looks like the playground at the park, only there’s a fence around it like the one they use to trap the animals at the zoo. He doesn’t like the playground at the park, and the more he watches them running and screaming and pushing, he knows there’s no way. There’s no way I can go in there without her, and she’s saying it will only be a few hours and she’ll be back to get him later-
But a few hours is a very long time.
He’s supposed to… what, learn to read? She can teach him that at home, she’s good at it, and if he has to go in there? No. He can’t, and the sun is getting brighter, hotter, and everything around him seems to jump even though he’s trying to blink it away. It’s like his eyes can’t keep things in place even though he knows they aren’t moving, and he can’t even hear the voices on the playground anymore, can’t parse them from the rushing sound of cars on the road or the wind in the trees. It’s all just a roar, battering the insides of his ears and it hurts-
“Oh, Billy, baby,” She’s kneeling down to his level, taking his wrists in gentle hands to pull them away from his head. “You can tap your legs, remember? Like this-” She lets go of his hands, moves her own to demonstrate even though he already knows how, even though it’s not that hard. But she does it with him anyway, because then he’s not alone. She’s good like that.
“See?” Her voice is soft, warm like the fuzzy blanket she wraps him up in when the air hurts his skin. It’s never loud but somehow it almost drowns out the roaring of the kid zoo beside them. “Or you can flick,” She flicks her fingers so he does that too, and it’s already easier to breathe, already easier to see straight even if he can’t quite look at her face yet. “I just don’t want you to hit your head because you could hurt your brain. I like your brain sweetie, it’s a good one. It’s my favorite. ” He looks at her mouth and he sees it pulling up at the corners.
She doesn’t end up making him go inside that day. Instead she takes him home so they can watch Arsenic and Old Lace on the big TV in the living room, and he does his best to repeat as many lines as he can because it makes her laugh, and his dad isn't there to say they should be quiet.
After that they watch The Lady Vanishes and The Trouble with Harry, and he ends up falling asleep in her lap with a belly full of popcorn. He only sort of wakes up when she carries him to bed, and it’s as she’s tucking him in that she tells him they have to try school again in the morning.
“I know it’s scary sweetie,” She speaks in her lowest voice, running her fingers through his hair to brush it from his face. “But I think it will be good for you to be around other kids, you need to have some friends your age.”
“I’m not a kid.” He says, leaning into her hand.
“Of course you are, baby.” She’s laughing, which he doesn’t really understand. He’s not trying to make a joke. “You only just turned seven.” What he’s talking about has nothing to do with how many years he’s been alive, but he doesn’t know how to explain that so he doesn’t say anything.
They try school for a week before he’s ready to go inside, even then it’s only because he’s annoyed with the fact that he has to show up everyday either way.
It’s bad though. It’s really, really, big, bad. Full of loud lights like the hospital and the stupid grocery store, and the people inside are always talking but they all want you to talk too, and they act like there’s something wrong if you don’t say something back.
At the start of his very first class the teacher makes him stand up in front of everyone, telling him to say his name and what he did over the summer, and he just feels himself lock up. It’s not that he doesn’t know the answer, it’s just that the words are all stuck in his brain and they fall apart on the way to his mouth because the lights are buzzing, and everyone is looking. Thirty pairs of eyes making his head spin, and his heart thuds so hard it echoes in his head and she’s not here.
The teacher kneels down next to him and says it’s ok if he can’t think of anything, which is annoying because he can and he’s not stupid, but when she tells him he can sit down he does, fingers flicking.
He doesn’t hit his head but he wants to. He doesn’t scream but he wants to. It gets a little bit better once class starts and the teacher gives them sheets to draw letters on, something to focus on. At least it’s better until recess. Recess is the worst part.
It starts with a bell so loud that it makes him jolt, has him looking around because he honestly thinks something is wrong, and now everyone is up, everyone is moving and he wants them to to just sit down so he can breath for a moment, but he’s not allowed. The teacher makes him go with them.
There’s a crush of them, not just his class but other kids too, older kids and all of them are yelling and running and it only gets worse once they get outside. What is this? There must be a hundred of them, and maybe one grown up to watch them, which can’t be enough, can it? It’s so much worse to stand inside it than it was to watch from the other side of the fence.
He’s decided to stand in the doorway, he’s just going to stay in the shade until they’re allowed to go back inside. He’s just going to stay and tap his legs like his mom told him to, and he’s going to be fine.
“Why are you doing that?” There’s a bigger kid next to him all of a sudden, too close. “Is there something wrong with you?”
No, he’s thinking, this is my doorway, leave me alone. He’s turning around, he’s going to find somewhere else to wait only then there’s a hand on his arm and he feels his brain shut down.
“You shouldn’t ignore people, it’s rude-” The kid is still talking but he’s not hearing any more, he’s just turning and shoving, and then he’s running.
He runs right for the gate his mom brought him in through, and he just needs her now, he just needs to go home and watch Arsenic and Old Lace. Only she isn’t in the parking lot. Only he doesn’t know how to get home and there are so many cars on the road, roaring and rushing and moving so fast, just like the kids on the playground behind him and he just knows they’re going to come after him. They’re going to drag him back inside so he tucks himself behind the bushes, squeezes his eyes shut, and breathes as quietly as he can.
He’s not sure how long he’s there but his body aches and he’s too hot, and he wants to leave but there’s nowhere to go, it’s not like he can go back inside, not now, they’ll be mad at him and that stupid kid might be there. He feels himself shaking, knows he’s not supposed to but his hands are moving to his head and he’s smacking his palms against his temples, against his ears pulling at his hair as his eyes sting uncontrollably and his face starts to get wet.
He might have missed her if he wasn’t opening his eyes to try and blink the tears away. He barely trusts his eyes when the car rolls up, but the second he sees her he’s up and running.
“Billy!” Her voice is higher than usual, like it is sometimes when she talks to his dad but she’s still kneeling down with her arms open wide, still wrapping them around him and scooping him up. “What happened? Miss Collins said you didn’t come back inside after recess, I was so worried-”
He doesn’t know how to answer though, not right now, he’s just gripping the back of her sweater, shaking his head.
“Ok, it’s ok, baby, shh-” and just like that she’s carrying him to safety, combing her fingers through his hair and tucking him into the car to take him home.
After that they don’t make him go outside to recess anymore, he just stays at his desk and reads his books, and he doesn’t try the outdoor version again until he’s in third grade.
That’s when Stu moves to Woodsboro.
He’s the only new kid who joins their class that year. They have a different teacher now but he does the same thing to Stu as Miss Collins did to Billy on his first day, makes him stand up and tells him to say his name and something he did over the summer.
“I’m Stu,” He’s already talking before Mr. Morton has finished. “-and this summer I went to Disneyland and I threw up on space mountain," The words tumble out of his mouth like they’re trying to run away from him. "-and also I saw a dead squirrel in the back yard and my sister said it would give me rabies like Cujo if I touched it but it didn’t so stuck some pins in it and it smelled really bad-”
He’s never heard anyone talk that fast before but this new kid Stu just goes, bouncing on his light up sneakers, hands moving wildly with his words like he’s trying to take flight. He doesn’t think he could say that much that quickly even if he tried his hardest, but it doesn’t seem hard for the new kid. It almost seems like it’s harder for him to keep the words in.
He’s got his mouth stretched wide and there are two teeth missing right in the front, a set of dimples carved deep into his cheeks. Billy wants to hear more about the squirrel, he wants to know what it smelled like but Mr Morton is already telling the new kid that’s enough, making him sit down. He does, but he’s bouncing all the way back to his seat.
Class starts, and it’s sort of normal for a while. They’re doing math now, and Billy kind of hates it but he’s doing his best. They’re supposed to be sitting quietly, working on additions tables when it happens. September is in its early days and the sun hasn’t cooled off yet, so with windows cracked for the breeze, a butterfly floats in.
The first kid who sees it squeals and the madness spreads from there. Everyone is jumping up like it’s recess, ignoring Mr Morton as he shouts for them to sit back down.
Billy’s used to it by now so he just jams his fingers into his ears. He doesn’t get it but everyone else wants the butterfly apparently, this bright orange thing flapping around in an aimless way that he can’t really make sense of. It’s dipping further into the room like it doesn’t know how many grubby hands are trying to catch it, up and down with each flap of wings, narrowly avoiding doom until Stu reaches up from his desk and just grabs it.
There’s a beat of silence, and then, like he was planning it all along, this kid stuffs the butterfly in his mouth and he chews.
Everyone is screaming again, immediately, and Billy thinks some girl is maybe crying but all he can see is this kid, with his nose scrunched up and his big eyes wide as he crunches down on a butterfly.
That’s sort of all it takes, he’s fascinated. Because Billy won’t learn to focus on eyes until he figures how useful it can be and after that he does it a bit too much, but he’s only 9 and he’s staring into Stu’s as he devours this beautiful thing that was alive two seconds ago. He grins wide after he swallows, and Billy can see shreds of those tissue-thin orange wings, sticking in his teeth.
Stu gets dragged out of class because he’s in trouble or something but Billy’s not really sure why, it’s not like there’s a rule against eating butterflies. He only shows up again after the recess bell and Mr. Morton makes him stay at his desk across the room, just like Billy, only Billy is allowed to stand up.
It’s not the first time someone’s been made to stay inside with him, sometimes other kids get detention too, and sometimes they let Randy Meeks sit inside and read cause he doesn't like recess all that much either, but it’s the first time he’s cared and for some reason that feels momentous. It might be because of the butterfly or because of the way that Stu looks back at him when he catches him staring, but Billy feels strange, light in his stomach and heavy in his feet.
Mr Morton is at the front, his face buried in a magazine as Billy gets up from his seat and walks across the room.
Stu watches him all the way, eyes going wider and wider the closer he gets and it’s weird because he feels disoriented looking at most people’s eyes. He will until he figures out what to look for, and he still feels that way right now, like he’s stumbling down a tunnel, but he doesn’t want to turn away.
He’s there before he realizes it, right next to Stu’s desk and staring down at him, staring into his Bugs bunny lunchbox. He knows he’s supposed to say something now and he wants to, but he’s not really sure what, so he opens his mouth and says the first thing that comes to mind.
“I want that.” He’s pointing into the lunchbox, at a fruit roll-up packaged in shiny foil. It’s true, he does want it, but it's not why he walked across the room.
“Oh-” Stu speaks and Billy’s almost disappointed not to see any orange between his teeth. “Here, you can have it.” And just like that there’s a fruit roll-up in his hands. “My sister puts one in my lunch everyday, so I’m kinda used to them.” Billy isn’t really sure how those things connect, but he’s not going to let it shut him up.
“Your name is Stu.” He says. “You ate a butterfly.” Because these are the only two things he knows about him.
“Yeah,” Says Stu. “It tasted weird.” Billy’s eyes fall to his marker stained hands, to the superman bandaid on his elbow. “What's your name?”
“Billy.” He says, feels himself blink hard before he walks back to his seat to eat his fruit rollup. When his mom picks him up after school, he tells her about the boy who ate a butterfly.
She seems happy that he made a friend his age.