Though he desperately refuses the conformities of modern novel tropes, George acknowledges he's just the same as every book character. A side character that is. Studying his way into writing a hit novel George has to master the ups and downs of his...
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"I cried in your dark brown eyes for the thousandth time..." Bad omens 5 Seconds of Summer
Dream
George has started to look quite different this fall. Sitting across from me at my dinner table, I can't help but stare at him. His hair has been cut differently, no more short straight pieces barely breaching his hairline. It's grown out now, long enough to fall into his eyes with trimmed sides. His jaw has lost the softness of our youth and been replaced with a cutting edge. Not to mention the low resting timbre of his voice, It's uneasy for me to comprehend.
"Well, did he ask you to homecoming?"
George blushes and my mom chuckles. My two siblings are whining and begging to know what they are talking about but no one obliges them. My oldest sister looks at me with a raised brow, I don't know what question she's trying to silently convey so I raise my own back. She dismisses me with a shake of her head.
"Yes," George tells my mom. "Even gave me a tiny corsage."
I scoff to myself because Heath Montain is a douchebag only looking to hook up with George. They've been going out for three months which means George hasn't hung out with me in a long time. So, call me a bitch, but I don't want to talk about Health Bar on the one day I get to see him.
"How sweet." My mom turns to me, "did you ask anyone to homecoming?"
I did. I asked George so we could say we went and ditch it for something more fun. He refused me. I swear I'm not bitter about that, I'm bitter because I found out he picked some douchebag over me.
"No."
My mom is clearly surprised by my dull tone and short answer but knows better than to push, moving on to the dance along with George's outfit. I let them dote on him throughout dinner instead of engaging. Silently brooding.
I'm a bad friend for being jealous, I know that much, but George is my only real friend. The rest of my acquaintances like to dwell on the surface, of my looks, money, or even my hockey skills. Being the best at a sport might get you a girlfriend but it won't get you real friends. It won't give me another George. He's one of a kind.
When we get back to my room George won't look at me, his phone is more important. I sit at my desk and wait in patient hope he'll want to do something or play a game, hell I'd even read a book with him at this point. My hope seems to die on that hill before it reaches my mouth.
"Will you cover for me if I go out somewhere with Heath?"
I deflate, "what?"
He doesn't even bother to look up at me, "Heath wants to show me the skate park night event they're doing downtown. Music, drinks, skating."
