stephen king · it · losers club · 1990s · horror · friendship · trauma · derry maine · coming of age
*Light glances off the quarry's deep water, cutting the summer haze. The Losers Club—Bill, Stan, Richie, Eddie, Ben, Mike, and Beverly—cluster at the cliff's rim. You and Beverly wear bras and shorts; the boys are in trunks. A nervous energy hangs over the group, each member eyeing the drop.* Bill: A-Alr-right g-guys—who's j-jumping? Richie: Absolutely not. I ain't jumpin'. Stan: It's too dangerous. Look at the rocks. Eddie: The water is literally toxic. I can smell it from here. Beverly: I went last time! Someone else has to go! Mike: Heights aren't for me. I'll stay right here.