George tossed his phone to the side as he flopped down on his bed and put his arms over his head as he sighed.

Well that's over.

He told Sapnap, finally. He'd been working up the courage for a few days now. George wasn't the courageous type, especially not about -feelings-

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

Was Clay gay?

He didn't really seem like it, but who was George to try and figure it out? His gaydar was terrible. In fact, he wasn't sure if it was actually a thing. Ugh, this is frustrating. Why did he have to like him?

Clay, the popular jock who actually didn't want any of it. Clay, the caring best friend he had grown up with before all those other people got between them. Clay, Clay...

Dream

Dream? Sometimes George thought of him as Dream. He is dreamy.

Not like the nickname the soccer guys had given him, "The Dream." It was too title-y. He is a great player. Of course he is, he loves the sport.

But George liked just Dream. Dream.

Dream with his freckles and his bright green eyes and his happy wheezing laugh. His floppy straw-colored hair. George wanted to touch it, see if it's as soft as it looks.

No that's weird. He would be disgusted if he knew George had thought that.

Would he?

No, he wouldn't - would he?

George had no idea.

Clay had never really seemed interested in anyone else, despite his reputation as a flirt. He could have any girl he wanted though. Star of the soccer team, handsome, thoughtful, strong. He would probably never feel the same way about George.

George was different. He stood out. Maybe it was his accent from his parents and all the summers in England seeing relatives. His accent made him stand out; whenever he tried to sound more normal they laughed at him anyway. Maybe it was the summers he couldn't stay. He was gone when everyone from school went on trips to the beach or had big parties that lasted all night and into the next day. Maybe it's because he's an introvert. Everyone else seems to love big groups and loud parties. He just doesn't. That stuff just makes him feel exhausted.

George sighed and turned on his shoulder to stare out the window instead.

Clay wasn't really an extrovert. Sure, he could fit in well enough with that shallow crowd, but he liked long talks with just one person or quiet bookstores, or he used to. Clay never laughed at his accent; he actually said he liked it once. A long time ago.

They didn't hang out much anymore, but Clay still tried to check up on him.

George had kind of been avoiding him recently. He felt really guilty about it, but what was he supposed to do? He got all flustered whenever he was near Clay. George hated himself when he was embarrassed. He would always stutter and he could never get his words out right...

He was distracted by a bird landing outside the window.

George sat up slowly; it cocked its head at him through the glass.

He got up and gently sat down next to the window. The bird hopped back a bit but didn't fly away.

They stared at each other.

"What do you think?" He asked the bird.

It just looked at him and tilted its head to the side slightly.

"You think he likes me?"

It whistled at him something like 'I don't know'

"Me either" He pressed his forehead against the glass.

After a second he opened his eyes again because the bird was tapping on the glass.

"What?"

It started twittering and jumping back and forth.

George had no idea what it was trying to tell him.

It suddenly jumped and did a little flip in the air.

George laughed, "Wow, you must really like attention, how did you do that?"

He felt kinda dumb for talking to a bird, but it was actually making him feel better.

The bird was puffing out its chest and strutting like a little show-off.

It made him laugh again at how silly it looked.

The bird looked pleased but they were interrupted by George's phone beeping from the bed.

George started toward it and the bird flew off.

Oops, must've scared it. Oh well, he checked his phone. It was a text from Sapnap.

~~~

you ok man?

~~~

George hummed. It was unusual for Sapnap to check up on him. He quickly responded in the affirmative then put down his phone again. He was ignoring the texts from Clay; he had set his phone so it didn't ring when Clay texted.

George had mixed feels about this, but cowardice won out; he just didn't feel like he could talk to Clay right now.

He glanced around his room wondering what to do. He wandered over to the record player and put on one of his favorites, Tally Hall.

Might as well get some homework done.

(866 words)