after splashing around and goofing off in the quarry for what felt like forever, the losers decided to get out, dry off, and chill on the rocks. you and bev had climbed up before the boys, spreading out on the rocks on your backs, giggling over a magazine she had brought over.

the boys got up, set up some music, and scattered themselves amongst the warm rocks. fortunately for stan, you barely acknowledged his staring as you and bev giggled.

“you’re staring, bird boy,” richie laughed. you didn’t look up. stan gave him an annoyed look.

“was not.”