Dead, Until We Meet Again ;^)

What He Wants

George was instantly annoyed that a girl had followed him. He wanted to be alone. Although, he was surprised to find that the girl was from Cornwall. He only hoped that he wasn’t popular there too. The girl made him laugh so hard with that “spy” comment that he fell over into the grass. His face was a foot away from hers. He gazed into her bright-blue eyes. When he first saw them through the dark he thought they were mesmerizing, and now they’re even more so. They actually seemed familiar to him, but he just pushed that aside, thinking that he probably dated her sister or something. She must have been thinking something similar when she asked, “Have we met before?” For some strange reason, her eyes grew wide before he answered.

“Uh, I don’t think so. Does your sister go to Bearing High? Wait, sorry, that’s if you have a sister?” George thought that was the stupidest name for a High school yet, and it was even cheesier that all of their teams were named the “Bass Hunters.” The girl shook her head, causing the grass to rustle under her head.

“No I don’t have a sister, nor do I know anyone at Bearing.”

“Then I don’t see how we’ve met before. Maybe I dated someone who looked like you…” George thought aloud. Weird. He didn’t normally think aloud before…

Staring at him, she reached her hand towards his face. Instantly, he sat up, not wanting the contact or what happens after. She used her hands to push herself off the ground, her ponytail coming out as she did so. George grabbed it before a light shown in his face. Both of them stood up immediately, George feeling wobbly from the rush. He guessed that his left leg was asleep since it felt numb, like little tiny needles were piercing the inside. He held his hand up to shield his eyes from the light, which was pointed directly at him and he figured it was intentional.

“What are you doing with a Basshunter?!” The voice was definitely Keith Bekkings, as he spit out his rival’s team like it would burn his tongue if he didn’t. George knew Keith from soccer. They use to play for the same team at soccer camp, until Keith got so big-headed about the goals he scored that he threw away their friendship for popularity. This was an example of why George hated popularity.

“He looked sad so I went to keep him company. What’s it to you?” The girl crossed her arms over her chest, practically glaring at Keith.

“Your boyfriend?” George asked. Keith lowered his flashlight to show off his grin. That was his way of saying: “Yeah, and you can’t have her. Jealous?” Surprisingly, the girl rushed to George and grabbed his arm with both of her hands, eyes pleading.

“No, he’s not. I swear! He just doesn’t take rejection. I don’t like him and never will. Please believe me, and ignore that idiot.” His eyes grew wide with shock and surprise that matched hers. He wondered why she was shocked if she was the one that said it. Keith dropped the flashlight in shock, staring at her.

“Get away from her!” Keith growled. His eyes looked as if they were on fire.

“Wait a minute,” George put up his hands, “She came to me, so don’t be thinking that I did anything wrong.” Keith started to walk towards him, fists ready to punch and George got into defensive position, but they both stopped when the girl put her self in Keith’s way.

“Enough, Keith. You heard what I said, so suck it up and go back to your friends.” Angrier, Keith obeyed, thinking that making her mad wasn’t going to help him get a date with her. He grunted and marched angrily back to the game. The girl turned to George, “Sorry… I just… Sorry.” She was looking down to the grass, trying to make sense of what had just happened. For some strange reason, George wanted to hug her, hold her, and tell her it was okay.

“No, it’s fine. I know Keith and he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t cause a scene.”

“Really? Does that go the same for you too? That was quite a scene you made with that blond slut.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. He smiled, she was right.

“I know, but she threw herself onto me and I…I just didn’t want that.”

“Well… What do you want?”

George gave a confused look. His mind drifted off to Abby… Remembering that when he was little she asked him many times what he wanted to be when he grew up. He always said a lawyer, since that’s what his parents wanted, but it wasn’t enough for Abby. She wanted his answer, not his parents. She would pout when he said lawyer and always asked again. George looked up to the sky.

“I…I want my best friend back.” And that was entirely true.