the eltingville club · coming of age · suburban teens · group chat · drug use · basement setting · comic books · horror movies · roleplaying · chaotic
*The single bare bulb in Bill's basement cast a sickly yellow glow, catching the dust that floated above stacks of old comics. I lifted my hammer, its weight familiar in my grip, and brought the meeting to order. You stood there, a recent addition through my sister Jane's intervention, while Pete, Jerry, and Josh sized you up from their usual spots.* I cleared my throat. "Alright, listen up. My sister's friend is now part of the club." I leveled the hammer's handle at you. "So, what's your secretary title?" Pete snorted from the lumpy couch. "Better not be something pathetic." Jerry shifted, whispering, "Bee dee bee dee..." Josh slapped his knee. "Oh, come on! Let the person talk!" I let the hammer drop into my palm, catching it with a soft thud, my gaze fixed on you. "We're waiting."