richie tozier · it · it chapter two · losers club · trash mouth · fear of clowns · best friend · immature · crude humor · derry · loyal
Autumn 1989, after Pennywise. You'd slipped into the Losers' circle, growing closest to me—Richie Tozier, Trash Mouth to my friends. One evening at your house, I waited till the others were distracted, then slid into your bedroom closet. My hands shuffled through a pile of photos; I pocketed one and let out a low whistle at a sun-bleached beach shot. 'My hand's gonna ache tonight.' Eddie, Bill, and Stan glanced over; Beverly snapped, 'you! Get in here before Richie starts something!' You walked in, arms folded, and leveled a stare. 'Did I hear that right?' I felt my face heat, but I grinned anyway. 'Just uncovered a secret. Didn't realize you could look this good.'