I wake up dreading the day already. I really don't want to go to school today. I had spent the whole day yesterday cleaning up after everyone's mess they made from Saturday night. Why are people so inconsiderate? Like you would think they would be nice since you have been welcomed into someone else's house but nope, they only care about themselves. There were cans everywhere, random pieces of clothing, confetti, popcorn and much more disgusting things on the floor of his house.

Nick stayed the night, which I was thankful for even though he seemed really drunk, and he had helped me clean everything up.

I stretch and yawn before dragging my feet over to my washroom and start getting ready for school. After I pick out what I'm going to wear, I gather my things and head down to the kitchen. My parents work long hours of the day and are never here on weekends because that's when they are needed most at work. They work during the week a lot but are always home around 6:00. I have an older sister that I haven't seen in awhile because she went abroad for university. Are relationship is great and I really miss her, but I'm proud of how far she's come.

My relationship with my parents is pretty good but they just expect a lot from me considering how well my sister is doing. They always seem to compare us. But, since I'm captain of the football team I have a high chance of receiving a scholarship for university, so that they seem proud of.

"Hey Clay we missed you this weekend" my dad says as he sticks his hand out. We do our little handshake we've done since I've been little.

"Hey dad, how was work?" I ask while putting bread in the toaster.

"Business as usual" he chuckles taking another sip of his coffee and returning his attention back to the newspaper in his hand. I continue making my breakfast and take a seat next to him. He turns back to me when I ask where my mother is. "Oh she had to leave early today her boss called her in" he replies. "But she wanted me to tell you that she misses you and that she made you a lunch" he points to the brown bag on the counter.

"Thanks" I smile. I miss my mom but I understand, living in a house like this did not come easily and I'm forever grateful to them.

"So how's football going?" he asks genuinely wondering.

"Good! I love being captain, the team is doing pretty well you should come to one of our games" I exclaim proudly.

"I would love to! I bet you guys are doing worse this year since your star is out" he jokes.

Even my dad knows how good George was. If you had asked anyone in the city they would most likely know who he was. When he got injured everyone seemed to sympathies for him saying he could have been this great NFL star. I don't buy it. Yeah he's good and all but he would get killed in the NFL.

"He's too small now anyways, best that he sits out" I spit seeming hurt by the comment.

"Hey no need to be jealous son, you are just as good" he tries to lighten the mood slapping my back. "So any girls struck your eye?"

I cringe at the question. Not only do I not have any love interest at the moment, but I hate talking about these type of things with my parents. He notices my hesitance and continues. "Or boys, hey you know I don't discriminate!" he lets out a breathy laugh.

I haven't officially came out to my parents, but I think they have caught on that I'm Bi. I remember watching Spiderman with them and accidently slipping up calling Tom Holland hot.

It was really awkward after that...

"No not at the moment Dad" I answer finishing up with my breakfast and putting my dishes in the sink.

"You should get with that boy Davidson, you talk about him a bunch and he can teach you a thing or two about football." I snap my head back to look at him. Is he insane? I hate George with a burning passion. I would never like him.

Don't get me wrong, of course I have noticed how good looking he is. And how his hair is always done perfectly, and how good he always smells, and how he looks so innocent when he's looking up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes and thick long eyelashes. But I hate him.

"I do not. And you know I can't stand him" I say furrowing my brows.

"Whatever you say Clay, get going you're gonna be late for school" he waves goodbye and picks the newspaper back up.

What an idiot.

I get to school and my first two periods fly by. Nothing important happened other than Nick getting kicked out of class for being a smartass.

I head to my locker and grab my lunch. I open it and find a note inside. "I made your favourite:)" it reads. I smile at the gesture and put the note safely back in the bag. As I close my locker I see George slouching against the wall with his arms closed grinning at me.

"What the hell do you want?" I ask brushing by him walking towards the cafeteria. He speed walks to catch up to me. "I just wanted my shoes, apparently I left them at your house Saturday" he answers.

"If you weren't so dumb you would of texted me and I could of brought them to school" I state as if it was obvious.

"I don't have your number saved remember?" He grins impossibly wider. "So I want them back by tomorrow." He orders.

"Look I know you think you run this school, but don't ever bark orders at me, got it?" I say sternly. No way am I letting him tell me what to do.

"I don't think Clay... I know I run the school" he corrects. "Plus I need them back, it's not like you would fit in them"

"I could sell them" I tease. His face shifts to a look of worry but he quickly brushes it off with yet another sarcastic comment. "Go ahead if your struggling that bad, I could always get a new pair" he smirks.

"Whatever, I just hope this gets through your thick skull." I stop walking and turn to face him. He's looking up at me and crosses his arms, waiting for me to continue. "Well, go on already I have people to see" he flutters his lashes.

"I run the school, not you, k?" I tap his cheek softly twice with the palm of my hand. He starts to turn red at the action. This is the reaction I love. Something inside of me ignites when I finally have the upper hand over him. It kind of gets tiring when everyone just goes with what ever you have to say, so I am somewhat grateful to have George around, he just makes my life a little more entertaining. And sometimes I even find myself searching for that back and forth exchange I pretend I loathe. But I'm almost certain he feels the same way.

Or else he would've just simply texted me.

"What makes you think that?" he asks innocently.

"Well everyone listens to me" I smirk. "Except you, when will you learn it's much easier to finally accept the truth then to constantly argue with me?" I say this knowing it will get a reaction out of him.

And boy was I right.

"Shut up Clay, you are just some second place piece of trash. Second place in school, second place in football and second place with the group. How does it feel being a backup choice? Must keep you up at night." He says furiously but yet still acting like he's all confident.

I scoff. "Oh yeah? We'll see about that" I finally enter the cafeteria and head towards our table. The guys are all siting there laughing and enjoying their lunch. I look George from the corner of my eye, he has a confused look on his face. I smile, greeting the guys and take my seat.

"Hey guys, can we sit at the table in the back today? I just don't want to be close to the door it's cold." I ask politely. George seems to catch onto what I'm doing.

"Sure man!" Joey says already getting his things prepared to move. The rest follow his motion.

"Thanks" I smile.

"Wait, no guys can we stay here? This is our usual table" George buts in.

Everyone pauses. They all look torn with what to do and start looking around for who will speak up first.

"Guys come on, who cares about that?" I ask them. "I do" George says coldly.

"It's fine, we can move for today, who cares?" Will speaks up.

"But you guys are already sitting down, that's so much effort" George continues to argue. I watch this all happen with a neutral look on my face trying my best not to burst out laughing at George's sad attempts.

"It's fine" Will says back. They all get up and head to the back table. George shoots me a pissed look.

"I told you George" my ego is bouncing off the walls. The look on his face is intoxicating. I love winning.

He stands there shocked seeming embarrassed by what had just occurred, not knowing what to say. "Come on pretty boy, let's go to the new table" I laugh tauntingly. He becomes flustered at the words and for a moment it looks like he's gonna follow me, but then he pulls himself back to reality.

"Please, as if I'd ever listen to you" he scoffs and walks out of the cafeteria. I watch him leave smiling proud of what I had just done. I hate that idiot so much so seeing him crumble is something satisfying to witness.

I join the rest of the boys and enjoy my lunch.