George pov

Where the hell was I?

I had been trying to make it back to the teachers lounge, back to Clay, when the storm picked up.

It was just my luck.

As I walked down a corridor lined with windows, peering outside the best I could through the rainwater streaming down the glass, everything got a lot worse.

Suddenly, the wind was the only thing I could hear, it's shrieking filling my ears like the cries of a hundred distressed children.

The thunder began shaking the school as though hoping that with the mere sound, it could make the building crumble.

The lightning was blinding and quick, appearing just to throw me off my feet before retreating into the shadows of the clouds outside.

The hail began pattering against the school, banging against the brick on the exterior, the rain failing to soften its blows with the witness of the campus.

The ground outside had to have flooded by now, the sidewalk had to have been slippery and wet, the street, a river, lifting the gravel from the ground to flow downstream and around town.

At the sudden change, I had run, I had sprinted away from my place at the window, hoping to find a classroom more fortified than the exposed hallways.

I'm the midst of my getaway, I'd gotten lost, arriving at a part of the campus I didn't usually tread in the normalcy of a school day.

I didn't know how to get to the teachers lounge, how to get back to whatever safety id found in the placement of somewhere that had become so familiar.

I didn't know how to get back to Clay, and it worries me.

Alone, k was helpless, attempting to control my feelings, but instead making them disperse and leave me with an indifference to offer to the world.

Alone, I couldn't think. Not surrounded by people, I was left to my imagination, something that couldn't be based on the personality of so many other milling around me as I stood still, remaining invisible.

Alone, I was unsure, a feeling no one could lose would be privy to, a state of mind I was left in.

With somewhat shaking fingers, I reached into the picked of my pleated skirt, pulling my phone out slowly and typing a code into it with unsteady hands.

Soon enough, I had complete control over the speakers in the school, having hacked into the soft board seconds prior.

I then opened text to speech, typing in slowly the words I wanted to say.

It has been the second day here, when Clay and I were bored. The storm had gotten worse, but not as bad as it was now.

I had been scared, to uneasy to fall asleep, even when the blonde was at my side. I'd had nothing to occupy myself, and I had been shaking in the corner of the room as Clay walked idly around.

Eventually, he had sat down next to me, holding out his phone, I guess noticing I didn't have mine at the time.

He was always so nice, his mind visibly always working out ways to make the experience a little easier for us.

I had giggled, my bored mind coming up with an idea right away, childish and immature, yes, but hilarious nonetheless.

Sometimes, I had decided since then, it was good to care.

That day, I had, and I had gotten to witness the boundless grin of the blonde, hear the intoxicating wheezes that protruded from his broad chest, and watch his eyes scrunch up with mirth, happiness strewn into the deep jade of his irises.

We had taken turns playing the most irritatingly obsessive songs they knew from the loudspeakers, provided by my refined hacking skills.

We'd danced around the room, the storm drowned out for only so long while the school echoed with the music we hated, but the air reverberated with a moment that was precious between us.

And long after Clay's phone had died, and we were left in a flickering darkness with the sound of the storm more prominent than before, I lay my head on the blonde's shoulder in a tired stupor as he continued to sing Heatwaves.

I could only smile slightly at the memory as I continued my hacking, eventually breaking through the relatively weak firewall and gaining full access.

I then connected it to my text to speech app, beginning to type as my words were announced throughout the entire school, sounding broken for the cause of shitty Wi-Fi and Bluetooth connection.

"Clay, I don't know where I am, can you come help me. I can't find my way back to you, please hurry."

I squeezed my eyes shut as I debated typing in more, letting the truth ring through the school for Clay to hear, allowing him to know the intensity I saw in the situation, and exactly the effect I needed him to have on it.

"Please hurry." The voice repeated, a small filler for the words I wished would make it's way into my friend's ears.

I need you.

I knew I did, as much as I would hate to admit, I really did need my friend.

I needed him close, at all times, it seemed.

But, friend?

Could I really call him that?

Could I expect him to be my friend when I kept him at such an emotional distance?

When I continued to push him away, only to moments later request for him to be closer?

I didn't know, and I tried to ignore the way my stomach pooled with warmth at the thought of the blonde being mine.

My friend, I mean.

Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't have been bad to welcome his friendship, and reciprocate his kindness.

I had to, especially when I remembered a time where all I saw in him was a boy who hated himself, yet treated the world around him like it was the most deserving thing in the world.

I had to, especially when I knew it would kill me to, once this was over, again, see him all alone.