"What are you doing?!"
I snapped my head up; I had forgotten that Stanley was with me.
"I-I uh was just-just looking at your drawings!" I said a bit loud than I meant too, due to the shock.
He walked over to me and snatched the book aggressively from my hands, then walked to the opposite corner of our clubhouse.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, knowing Stan could hear me.
He sighed. "Sorry I snapped at you..."
     "Tally ho, Staniel!" I shouted, causing him to jump. "Let's get going!"
     He glared at me, but I could tell he wasn't really that mad. "And where do you think we're going?"
     "Umm The Diner?"
     He looked at me like I was stupid
          (I'm not stupid)
     And said, "Richie, Bowers is probably still out there waiting for us. A-and no offense, but I don't think we could make it."
     I knew his words were true, but I didn't want Stanley to be afraid.
     "How's this? We'll wait another hour, then leave. If anybody comes at us, you run and I'll take care of them... or at least give you a head start," I mumbled.
     Stanley bit his lip. "No. No, I'd stay and help you." He looked me in the eye. "You're too important too me. I-I couldn't leave you."
     I felt a smile break across my face at Stanley's words. I scooted over to him, and wrapped my arms around him.
      "Thanks Stan," I murmured.
     "Anything for you Richie," he said, hugging me back tightly.
     "Hey..."
     "Hey?"
     "I dunno... I just want you to know you mean a lot to me... like if anything were to happen," I trailed off.
     Stanley bit his lip, thinking. "I have to tell you something," he breathed.
     "Yeah?" I whispered back, very  curious.
      "I think I'm bisexual..."
     I didn't say anything for a moment, but it wasn't because I was angry or anything. I was just thinking of the best joke to tell Stanley, but he'd started sobbing before I could even think of a proper one.
      I instantly tightened my arms around him, pulling him into my lap. He buried his face in my neck; his tears instantly soaked my T-shirt.
      His body shook with sobs, and I tried my hardest to calm him down. The problem was, I just didn't know why he was crying.
     I sat silently for a few minutes, just rocking Stanley back and forth. Finally, I spoke. "What's wrong?"
     Stanley shuddered, tears still leaking from his eyes.
     "I- nothing."
     "Stanley, don't lie to me... please," I begged softly.
     The blond boy sniffled, then began talking. "I-I just... didn't mean to tell you like that, and I'm scared you'll hate me now, and if my father ever finds out, I'm- I'm literally dead and-"
     I silenced him with a tight hug, and he hugged back, shaking.
     "You know i would never let anything bad happen to you, right?"
     He nodded in response. I ran my fingers through his curly blond hair, and eventually he closed his eyes. I grabbed his sketch book again, and began leafing through the pages of his amazing drawings.

The hour I told Stanley we would wait passed by much faster than I realized. Gently, I shook his shoulder, waking him up.
"Hmm?" Stanley mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"It's been an hour sleepyhead. Do you wanna try and go now?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yeah, I guess, but we have got to be careful!"
"Anything for you Stan the man," I giggled.
He walked over to the trapdoor, and pushed it open. Stanley looked around for a moment before motioning me forward.
"Let's go. We're just gonna run until we reach town. And for gods sake Richie please do not fall-"
I silenced him with a wave of my hand. "Of course old chap, anything for you my dear," I responded in what I thought was an amazing British impression.
Stanley rolled his eyes. "Let's go!"
We climbed up and out of our clubhouse; I stood guard as Stanley secured the door. Then we ran.

Thankfully, Stanley and I made it to town in one piece. We were both out of breath and I was doubled over trying to catch my breath.
"Wanna go- wanna go get food?" I panted.
"God Richie, are you ever not thinking about food?"
I laughed. "Nope."
He considered my offer. "Sure, but let's go to the diner that serves breakfast all day!"
I giggled at how cute he was. "Sounds good to me, Stanley," I rhymed.
He snorted, and we began walking towards the diner. I really wanted to hold his hand, but didn't know how to without freaking him out. So I just brushed my knuckles against his a few times, apologizing after each.
About a block from the diner Stanley piped up. "If you want to hold my hand you can..."
I grinned, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I-I really like you," I whispered.
"I like you too."