8TEEN | IT ONE SHOTS

i'll be holding on to you [stenbrough]

The losers are 17.

The last day of their junior year came with many conclusions. The losers would soon have to start thinking about the more important aspects of their futures like college and finally moving away from the fucked up town they called home.

They had mutually decided that the best way to kick off their summer vacation would be to relax and kick back at the quarry. Their boisterous laughter could be heard from a hundred yards away, but they didn't care. They had been free of the darkness for a little less than two years and they would be damned if they couldn't have a little bit of fun over their summer break.

Mike, Ben, Beverly, Richie, and Eddie sat up on the cliff of the quarry, four of the teens carefully observing the two boys relaxing in the water. Bill threw his head back in laughter as Stan splashed him, the water hitting him square in the face. Smiles graced the faces of the two teens splashing about in the warm water of the quarry. Richie sighed dramatically in the silence on the cliff.

"What?" Ben asked from his place beneath a nearby tree, a book lying flat in his lap.

"It's so sad." Richie said as he leaned against a boulder nestled deep in the soil, Eddie settled next to him with Richie's arm thrown around his shoulders. Bev looks over from her spot where she's sun bathing, catching the glare of the sun in the lenses of her sunglasses.

"What is?"

"They're so in love but they don't even see it." He dramatically places a hand over his heart and observes as Stan turns to start swimming back to the shore, Bill immediately taking this as an opportunity to dunk the smaller boy underneath the water.

"Yeah. They're practically Romeo and Juliet, Richie." Eddie retorts, turning his head to glare up at Richie who only smiles in return.

"Eds, look at them! You can't fake that kind of chemistry!" They sit in wonder, watching as Stan shoves Bill backward when he resurfaces, making his way toward the shore again. Their joyous laughter can be heard from up on the cliff and a smile is now found on the rest of the loser's faces.

"First, don't call me that, you know I hate it. Second, let's assume you're right. Let them figure it out for themselves." Richie shushed him, placing his free hand over Eddie's mouth. The younger boy wriggled next to him and desperately pried his hand away from his face, screeching about the germs Richie must have on them.

"Sh. Guys listen. We've known Bill and Stan for a while, right? We all—well, most of us—can see how in love these two are with each other! Someone has to crack eventually, right? So what I am proposing here is that we place a little bet to see just how long it takes them to crack. Who's with me?" Richie had shot up onto his feet whilst giving this over dramatic speech, the rest of the losers watching him with an eyebrow raised.

"How is this supposed to help?" Mike inquired from next to Ben beneath the tree.

"Mikey, my man, listen; no one said it was supposed to help. It's a classic bet. We all choose when we think they'll finally give in and whoever's closest wins. Losers pay up five bucks each." He could hear the other two getting closer and he was running out of time. "The clock's a-ticking, people. What'll it be? In or out?"

The rest of the losers all shared a glance, mutually deciding what the hell, might as well see where this goes. The nodding he gets in return causes Richie to triumphantly pump his fist through the air. "Place your bets, losers. I'm gonna go ahead and say... two months."

"One month." Bev said.

"Two weeks from today." Mike.

"By next Friday." Ben.