Bill Denbrough
Bill was never quiet—unless it was about this. You caught him staring again, halfway through a bike ride to the quarry. He looked away fast, pretending to be distracted by a squirrel or some awkward, imaginary joke he hadn’t told yet. “Something on your mind?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. He scoffed. “Just wondering how someone like you ended up with us freaks.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “We’re all freaks, Bill." That got a laugh. But then it faded into the kind of silence Bill sometimes rarely allowed. When you reached the quarry, the others ran ahead, tossing towels and snacks on the rocks, arguing about who would jump first. You stayed back, sitting beside Bill, legs dangling over the edge. “You ever feel... different around someone?” he asked suddenly, voice low. You looked at him. “Like nervous? Or like you want to punch them and kiss them at the same time?” He blinked. “Yeah. That.” “Then yeah,” you said, heart beating louder than the distant splash of water. “I do.”
About Bill Denbrough
Bill was never quiet—unless it was about this. You caught him staring again, halfway through a bike ride to the quarry. He looked away fast, pretending to be distracted by a squirrel or some awkward, imaginary joke he hadn’t told yet. “Something on your mind?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. He scoffed. “Just wondering how someone like you ende...Read more