Just One Night // DNF

38 - Broken Promise Broken Heart Broken Soul

A/N - 7000+ babes; pheww get water and a snack my loves. Find somewhere comfy to enjoy this long ass chapter.

He needed air. He needed peace. He needed to get out of his own body and mind. 

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George was hunched over his Economics textbook at the dining table downstairs when he heard the garage door open, then shut. His parents' voices filled the air, "We can just order takeout." Adhara said. Alden huffed something under his breath that George couldn't quite catch. 

He was about six pages into his homework and about an hour awake from his 3-hour nap. He got home around 2 and woke up a little after 5. It was currently 6:32 pm, which was pretty early for his parents to be home. 

"I'm in the mood for Chinese- Oh! Look whose downstairs and out of their cave." His mom said happily. George just rolled his eyes and smiled, "Hey mom. How was work?" She was about to respond when Alden interrupted, "Messy." He said gruffly, hanging his and his wife's coat on the rack by the garage door.

George's mom just shrugged, "It's always messy." she dismissed, walking further into the room and into the kitchen. She dug through the junk drawer before pulling out a takeout menu. "How was school, honey?" She asked, scanning the takeout menu.

George shrugged, "It was fine." He said, the answer coming out robotically. It wasn't fine. I hated it. I wanted to go home the minute I got out of my car. His mom just hummed happily before passing the menu to his dad who took it wordlessly. "Well, now that we have the weekend off, what do you want to do for your birthday?" She asked.

George stiffened. He didn't really expect his parents to be able to take off this weekend, so really he didn't have anything in mind. Nick was dragging him to a party tomorrow night anyways, meaning he'll probably sleep all of Sunday. "Nothing. Just family night, or something." He said, his eyes wavering and flicking across the polished wood of the dining table. 

Her eyes bore into George's head, "Okay. Are your friends planning anything?" She asked. George sighed, "Unfortunately. They're starting it early and picking me up tomorrow night." She laughed lightly, "Is it Dream?" she asked, her tone awfully void of any quirks, which was strange for her because she always wore her heart on her sleeve and her feelings in her voice.

George stiffened and immediately snapped his head up to meet his mom's gaze, "What? No. What makes you say that?" He said, almost defensively. He didn't know why he suddenly got all defensive about Dream, it's not like there was anything to be defensive about. Liar. Shut up. 

Adhara shrugged and rounded the kitchen island and slid into the sweet adjacent to George's. She glanced over her shoulder to see her husband gone, probably in their bedroom on the phone with the takeout place. "Well, you've been spending an awful lot of time with him." She said softly. "I just figured that'd it be him. He did end up coming here all week while you were sick," she said sick as if George wasn't mentally dying and instead had some sort of terrible stomach bug, "which was awfully kind of him."

George scoffed and shut his notebook, his pen rolling to the side, nearly falling off the edge of the table. "It's Nick," George said, almost to remind her that he and Nick were supposed to be best friends, in her anyways. Something about the way she was talking about Dream made him panic. It's always been Nick. They were best friends, so his mom thinking it was Dream was making him nervous. Where'd she get such an idea?

"Oh, how is Nick?" She asked, leaning back in her chair. "I miss him. He hasn't been around lately." She noted. Nick was like a second son to her. When they moved to Florida four years ago, Nick's mom was their real estate agent to help them find a permanent home after their 6 months' rent on the rental house they had ended. That meant Nick and George spent an awful lot of time together, and it wasn't like either of them minded. Nick had shown him around and helped him adjust to America as best as he could. They stuck to each other like glue.