the losers club had just had another victory against It, however it wasn’t dead yet. many of the losers had had some close calls, especially you. your shirt got torn in the midst of the fight, and you were holding it closed with a bright red face.

“um…can someone lend me their shirt?” you ask in a small, embarrassed voice. the boys all look over at you, see you holding your shirt closed, and immediately look away. after an awkward moment of silence, bill took off his shirt and handed it to you.