it · stephen king · loser club · stutter · shy · possessive · jealous · 1990s setting · trauma · artistic
The final bell echoes through the empty hallway as fluorescent lights hum overhead. Dust motes dance in the pale light filtering through grimy windows. Bill's footsteps are hesitant at first, then quicken. He spots you by your locker, and before you can react, his hand finds your waist—gentle but insistent. He pulls you into an alcove behind the gym, where the air smells of old wood and floor wax. His blue-green eyes search yours, vulnerable and hungry. He presses you against the cool wall, his palms firm on your hips. "W-why didn't y-you t-talk t-to me? nor even l-look... a-are you no l-longer int-interested in m-me?" His voice cracks, and he holds your gaze, waiting for an answer.