Before you read this, go and reread the first chapter, I redid it. 

Clay pov

I meant to do it. 

But I would lie for the rest of my time here that the guy I punched had provoked me with illegal actions and comments.  

My falsehoods, however well they were delivered, only earned me a detention this evening. 

All throughout the day I'd been thinking about it, thinking about how upset my mother would be, how much she would have to scrutinize because of my stupid mishap. 

However, this would also allow me an hour and a half that I didnt have to face her mental abuse. 

I didnt know much of what to expect from detention. I knew that ours school was made up of anyone but delinquents, and so it was likely that I would be alone. 

The only person that I knew got into detention was George, the brunette that simply didnt care, that so clearly had so much on his mind, but hand nothing to say. 

Maybe I would finally get to talk to him. 

I was in my last class of the day, watching the clock and waiting for the seconds to mark the last moments of the final minute I'd have to sit anticipating my first interaction with George. 

The blissful bell sounded around the school, and for once I was a part of the mob that shook the floorboards of the school with the thunderous footsteps of freedom granted at last. 

I knew I was still confined to detention, but it didnt seem like that anymore. 

It was the time that, maybe, Goerge was going to see me. 

He was amazing, absolutely indescribable. I admired him so much; the valor that he portrayed in the confidence he wore with his eye catching attire drew me in. 

I doubted I would be able to speak to him, not with my anxiety and the sadness that seemed to cloud my better judgement, but being close to the brunette boy would be better than admiring him from afar. 

I walked into the detention room, closing the door behind me and sitting at the desk in the back of the room. 

I may not have known much about detention, but I did know that the kids that were confined to the room were long forgotten by the chaperones twenty minutes after the start of our punishment. It was a known fact that in their sparse moments of free time during the school day, the teachers were always at the front of the building, getting high. 

George and I would have practically the entire school to ourselves. 

My thoughts were cut off by the said boy entering the classroom, glancing slowly around the room with sharp brown eyes that seemed to light up as they fell over me. 

In that moment, I got to see something I had never witnessed before. George smiled. 

He walked over and sat in the desk in front of me, sitting to the side and looking at me. 

I didnt know what to do, what to say, and in my silence, my mind took it as an opportunity to attack me. 

Drista could have helped you if she were here. 

If your dad wanted custody over you, he could have helped you, too.

Maybe if someone had wanted to stay with you, you would be able to be with George and your home life would be normal

I look down at my desk in shame. 

I knew that my thoughts weren't true, but they were as convincing as the lies that made my mother believe I wasnt as bad as I really was in her eyes. 

I couldnt talk to George. 

I dont know what made me think I could talk to someone so perfect. 

Perfect for me? 

Once I might have thought that, but all I could think about now was how inferior I was compared to someone of his beauty and grace.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see George doing something with his hands, prompting me to look up at him, following the movements intently. 

I could make out a couple of words in sign language, but I had never learned the full language. 

I look back into his wide, intently focused brown eyes, sighing at the stare he held. 

"Sorry, I never learned the full language." I say, my voice louder than the whisper I had attempted. "I'll try and learn later, though. For now, maybe you could use text to speech?" 

He smiles, his hands pausing then reaching to grab his phone, typing something into the device. 

I fiddle with the strap of the backpack I had sat beside me, looking out the window as he wrote. 

There were a lot of sparsely placed rain clouds, but they were rapidly expanding. 

I had lived in Florida my whole life, had survived many hurricanes; enough to know when one was forming. 

I dont know how I didnt notice it before. 

Suddenly, a lot of things happened at once. 

A small giggle was heard from the boy beside me, making my heart melt and my cheeks burn. 

Rain began to suddenly pour, fierce and heavy. 

Shouts sprouted from the ground below us as the smoking teachers ran to their cars to escape the downpour. 

Lightning flashed nearby, eliciting a large crash of thunder, making George jump, leaning closer to me. 

I turned toward the brunette in front of me, being met with wide, almost fearful eyes. It made me wonder if George was from here; he had to have been expecting a hurricane before I did. He was smart, and signs of a storm like this were relatively obvious for a veteran. 

I was just stupid. 

"Come on," I say, grabbing his wrist with one hand, our bags with the other as I lead him into the hallway of the school. 

From there, we could hear the howling wind outside pick up drastically, and, despite the storm only starting moments ago, I could hear hail pounding against the window. 

I lead George to a safer room, one with no windows, but still spacious. 

I set our bags down, releasing my hold on George, my hand having slipped into his from its original grasp around his wrist. 

I felt my cheeks heat up once more at the realization. 

We eventually find ourselves sitting down across from each other, the brunette seeming a lot calmer, but unwilling to speak anymore, electing to simply stare and smile at me. 

Finally, I find my voice, saying something I should have the moment I saw him today. 

"Hi. I'm Clay."

Another chapter!

If you haven't read it already, go and read the redo of the first chapter. It's much better than the original, i think. 

Also, I literally made my storm-loving self scared by researching the forming of supercell storms at 2am with a sleep-deprived mind. That shit is scary when you're delirious with lack of sleep. 

I probably wont be able to write any more today because my family is taking two of my older brothers out for their birthday, but please, give some ideas for the story. I started another one without really having a plot so...

Also, I'm stuck listening to Electric Love over and over... save me. 

Much luv, you guys are the best, dont stop being amazing 🫶

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