I pushed my bike down the streets of Derry. It was early in the morning and I wanted to see if I could find a buyer for some of my artwork before school. I leaned my bike next to a bin and entered the art gallery which was on the corner of Main street. The bell twinkled as I closed the door and a middle-aged man with tiny spectacles greeted me with a stern look.

"What do you want." he asked. I kept the fake smile plastered on my face. That attitude wasn't going to get him customers.

"I was wondering if I could sell some of my artwork here." I replied. Suddenly, he started to laugh and I looked at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry, we don't accept amateur artwork. Go to school little girl." he opened the door and beckoned for me to leave.

I stood there in shock with my mouth hanging open. He didn't even look at them!

"Don't you want to see them first?" I asked, but he shook his head.

"No thank you. Have a good day!" he said with mock cheerfulness and opened the door wider. I huffed and brushed past him, making sure to 'accidentally' knock over a stack of pencils that had been carefully arranged into a pyramid on the front desk.

"Sorry!" I called over my shoulder before grabbing my bike.

The ride to school was an angry one. What an asshole, assuming that my paintings weren't good enough just because I was young. I tried to brainstorm other places that I could sell my work, but had come up with nothing by the time I reached the school. I hopped off my bike and was about to head into the building when I heard a shout and turned to see a chubby boy pinned against the wall by four other guys. One of them, I noticed, was the guy who had bumped Richie yesterday.

"Look here you fat fuck. You're going to do this for me, or I'll make your life more of a living hell than it already is." the one who was holding him up said. He was definitely the scariest looking out of them all. With his mullet, ripped tank top and jeans, I could tell he wasn't someone you wanted to mess with.

The boy struggled against his grip, his face turning a deep shade of purple at the lack of oxygen he was receiving. I winced as the older boy tightened his choke hold around the younger one's neck.

"You better listen tits, or Henry's gonna fuck you up." the boy whom I recognised said with a laugh..

"Please." the boy sobbed as Henry held him closer to his face.

"If I don't get it by next week, you're fucking dead, pig. Dead." Henry hissed before letting him go. The rest of his friends made 'oink' noises as they stalked off.

I knew I should have stepped in. I knew I should have gone to the boy to see if he was alright. But after being on the receiving end of torment for so long, I didn't want to get shit from anyone anymore. With one last regretful look at the boy who was slumped on the ground, his head in his hands, I walked into the school.

I walked out of class and was putting my stuff into my locker when I got bumped, hard. My head banged into the locker door and books went flying everywhere. However, this time they weren't mine.

"Ah fuck!" a girl with dirty blonde hair turned to look at me with a glare. "You bitch, look what you made me do. Clean this shit up." she stood with her arms folded against her chest, looking at me expectantly.

"Excuse me? You're the one that bumped into me. Pick it up yourself, you look like you could do with the exercise." I replied, rubbing my forehead and turning back to my locker. I already had a temper from this morning, I wasn't in the mood to play nice today.

"Um, who do you think you are? Do you even know who I am?" her eyes burned into mine with an intense hatred.

"Should I?" I replied, raising my eyebrows.

"Aw Greta, stop picking on the new girl. She's new, you know." I turned to see the dark haired boy standing against my locker, his eyes wandering between me and Greta with a smirk.

"Fuck off Patrick. Stay out of it." Greta snapped.

"Too late tinkerbell. I had a good time with you the other week, by the way. You've got yourself a set of lungs." he replied with a wink.

"Like I'd touch you, creep. You can both fuck yourselves." Greta snapped and stormed off.

Patrick turned to me and looked me up and down. "Instead of fucking ourselves, why don't we fuck each other?" he asked with a suggestive smile. I rolled my eyes and turned away.

"In your dreams, asshole." I replied. He smiled even wider.

"So, new girl, picking fights on your second day? I like you already."

"I'm not picking fights. People pick fights with me." I muttered. I didn't want to be stuck talking to this guy. I had seen what he did to the boy earlier and how he treated Richie yesterday. His type I was all too familiar with.

"I wish it was that way for me, you know. I can't help but do bad things, the urge to hurt people just won't go away. Have you ever hurt anybody, new girl?"

I didn't like the look he was giving me. "What's it to you?" I replied, not waiting around for an answer. I started to walk away and muttered, "psychopath." under my breath. I almost though I could hear him laugh.

I exited the halls and went onto the grass outside the gym. I sat down underneath a large oak tree I and ate my hastily made ham and cheese sandwich. I spotted Bill and Richie sitting with their other two friends in the distance, and they spotted me. Bill beckoned me over and I hesitantly walked towards them.

"Hey, it's Laura!" Richie said. The other two boys turning to look at me in surprise.

"R-Richie, that isn't Laura, it's-" Bill started, but Richie cut him off.

"Look Bill, I think I'd fucking know if that was Laura or not. I met her yesterday at my locker. Tell him I'm right Laura, go on, tell him." he pushed his spectacles up his nose and looked at me expectantly.

"Um, Bill's right. I'm not Laura." I replied and Richie threw his hands up in the air.

"No fake? Well if you're not Laura, then who the hell are you?"

"Lara." Bill smiled as I sat down next to him.

"Lara? What the heck, you told me you're name was Laura!" Richie said angrily.

"I really didn't." I replied.

"I think you're as deaf as you are blind." the boy with curly hair said.

"Shut up Stanley. Okay Laura, Lara, shit, whatever your name is. Now that your sitting with us, this is Eddie." Richie said, pointing to a smaller boy with dark hair and a fanny pack. "He's a real germaphobe. Bit of a pussy in my opinion."

Eddie gave him a look. "Hey! Just because you don't think cooties are real-"

"Because they aren't real, dickweed." Richie cut him off. "Anyway, this is Stanley, or Stan, whatever floats. He's probably the worst Jew you'll ever meet."

Stanley hit Richie on the head. "And this is Richie, but we call him trashmouth. Won't take a genius to know why." he said, rolling his eyes.

I laughed at the boys' banter. Billy sat quietly next to me, smiling slightly at his friends. "You're friends are cray." I nudged him with my knee.

"Tell m-me about it." he laughed.

"Guys, wait, are you sure we should be letting this girl sit with us? I saw her talking to Patrick Hockstetter in the hallway. She could be some sort of spy or something. I don't trust her." Eddie said, looking at me suspiciously.

"Is that t-true?" Billy asked with wide eyes.

All the boys were looking at me and I felt a sense of unease at their attention. "I didn't want to talk to him. This poofer bumped into me and kirked out on me. I don't even know where he came in, but he's mung."

Richie shrugged. "Good enough for me."

The rest of the boys nodded in agreement and continued to eat their lunch.

"So why did you move to Derry?" asked Stanley.

I paused, unsure of what to say. "My mum found a new job so we packed up and left, I guess." I wasn't going to tell them the specifics, even if they asked.

"Was your d-dad okay with that?" Billy asked.

"Never knew him." I shrugged. They all looked at me awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Eddie, however, perked up at this.

"Hey, that's something we have in common! Well, I knew my dad but he died when I was young. Let me guess, an overprotective mother too?" he asked.

"No, actually. She's too busy with her career. I usually have the house to myself." I replied and Richie pumped his fists in the air.

"Heck yeah! At last we have a house where we can throw some raging parties and finally lose our losers label!"

"Keep dreaming Richie, this name will be stuck with us forever. You should leave while you can Lara, or else you'll be considered part of the Losers Club too." Stanley said, looking at me seriously.

I laughed. "Don't worry. I've been called worse."