good old-fashioned loverboy - dreamnotfound

7 - i'm in the middle of a chain reaction

George's mind was all over the place.

His thoughts were strewn all over the place, so much so that he forgot to even ask Puffy if it was alright to head to her house right after school. Though when he showed up at her door, clearly distressed and in need of some help, she didn't question it.

"George?" Puffy asked, confusion being overridden by the immediate concern in her tone. "Is everything okay?"

"Puffy," George spoke quietly, sounding as though he were out of breath. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "I- do you want to come on a drive with me?" Then, much softer and almost inaudibly, "Please?"

"Yeah," Puffy nodded after hesitating slightly. "Yeah, let's go for a drive. I'll tell my parents that something came up, then we can go."

"Okay," George nodded, fiddling with his hands as Puffy disappeared back into her house. In the few seconds she was gone, there was muffled shouting and a frustrated huff. George sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the rejection, his mind convincing himself that her parents told her no, and that he would have to sort out his problems on his own in the meantime.

A few moments later, Puffy returned to the door with a bright smile on her face.

"Took some convincing," she said with a slight sigh. "But let's go. You can let me know everything that's going on."

"Thank you," George whispered, taking a step back. The both of them made their way down Puffy's front porch and towards George's car.

They got in—with George in the driver's seat and Puffy in the passenger's—and it was only a matter of minutes before George had driven out of Puffy's neighbourhood, driving aimlessly while he tried to think of a place where they could just sit and talk. And it seemed Puffy had sensed in on his internal distress after he took the same turn for the third time in a row.

"We can just go to Sunshine's Diner," Puffy suggested, pointing in the opposite direction of where George was going. "They have some good food. I'll pay."

"Okay," George said shakily while rerouting them, this time heading in the correct direction. Then, he scoffed, "You don't have to pay."

The drive was short, thankfully, because George didn't think he could hold any of his emotions in any longer. By the time they were waiting to be seated, his knee was bouncing, hands fidgeting by his sides. Puffy tapped the back of his hand with her finger, catching his attention and smiling at him when they met eyes.

"Hiya!" A waiter greeted, their eyes shining brightly. "Just the two of you?"

"Yep," Puffy nodded, gesturing to both her and George. "Just us."

"Alright, sounds good," The waiter picked up two menus and stepped off, motioning for the pair to come along, "Follow me and I'll get you two seated."

After the both of them sat down, George sighed. The waiter took both of their orders—Puffy got a strawberry milkshake while George got a chocolate one—then left them to their own devices. With George a trembling, anxious mess and Puffy a shoulder for him to lean on.

Anxiety was rolling off of George in waves, his fingertips buzzing with nerves. He shifted in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his ankles while avidly avoiding Puffy's gaze. Because she was staring at him, silently prompting him to explain why he dragged both of them out here.

"Puffy," George began, leaning his elbows onto the table. He watched as his own fingers danced around each other, nails digging into the painful hangnails.

"George," Puffy said quietly, leaning forward to take George's hands in hers. She ran her thumbs soothingly over each dip between George's knuckles, and George silently appreciated the gesture. "Is everything okay?"