dandelions - dreamnotfound

7

I sat down at the big apple tree, waiting for George. It was our little spot now, since no one else really came here.

I pulled out my phone and called him. "George?" I heard the deafening screams of children in the background. "Clay?" His voice muffled through the yelps. "What the- what's happening?" Although I thought he was already at home, I saw him standing in the gateway of the entrance to school. His head turned and as he saw me, he waved and came towards me.

I hung up and let him sit down beside me, allowing my backpack to be a pillow for his head. He layed his head on my green backpack, half of his face covered. I stroked through his hair and layed my head on the pricky grass. But when I looked at George, when I saw his eyes looking at mine, nothing was more important than this moment.

My hand caught his cheek and his eyes drifted off to my lips. Or did they? I didn't know. He took his hand and pulled me closer to him. Our faces were only inches away. But he didn't kiss me.

"Clay, I need to ask you something?" His soft voice arose from his pink lips and I hummed in question. He grinned at me. "Could you maybe drive me home tonight?" The words were like radiant roses, the thorns stinging me right in the stomach. He giggled.

"Sorry, it was a stupid question. Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to." His laughs were nervous. I wanted to drive him home.

"George, of course I can drive you home. I would love to," I whispered to him, staring him into the eyes. His chuckles stopped and his eyes met mine. "Seriously?" His eyes spoke only confusion. I nodded and smiled warmly at him. He gave me a quick peck on the nose and laughed.

His flustered face made me more happy than any boy at any moment. Maybe life wasn't so bad after all, having the prettiest boy love me. I couldn't believe it. George had loved me.

"Then what are we waiting for, let's go!" George stood up and ran to the parking lot. It was a Thursday, I always have to take Nick's car home. But we had fought. I had the keys. But I didn't want to hijack his car. Goddamnit, Clay. It's for George. For him.

I took the keys out of my pocket and fast-walked to the car, George behind me. I hesitated before opening the door. Nick would be here any second. Seeing me escape with his car. And George. But Nick hated me for no reason, so I wanted revenge. I opened the passenger seat door and George hopped in.

After I got in the car, I turned on the radio. Seemingly, George knew the song that was playing, because the gasp he let out of his mouth when he heard the melody, wasn't normal. "Clay! I love this song! It's my favorite!" He hummed along with the melody, his soft voice aligning with the refrain. Then, I regognized the song. The tone, the music, the melody. It was the song that I had learned on the guitar four months ago.

I'm in a field of Dandelions, wishing on every one that you'll be mine.

I regonized the song the instant when George sang that line. I started to hum along with it, George looking over at me. I smiled at him as the two of us sang the song that would forever connect us.

"You know that song?" George asked me after the song came to a close. "Yea. I learned it on the guitar a couple months ago." I swerved a left and waited for a response.

"Maybe you could teach me. I have an old guitar in my room." I stopped the car to get a good look at him. He nodded when I looked at him and I continued driving.

"Now, take a left and then three rights. Got it?" George telling me the instructions to his house was the funniest thing ever. His voice always raised when I accidentally went the wrong way, his british accent making it even worse for me not to laugh.

We finally arrived at his house. Finally. After thirty minutes of laughing and arguing, we made it to the pretty boys' house.

It was a sort of grey-ish color, four windows to be seen at the front of the house. It had three floors and I could see a flower pot in one of the windows.

"Come in," George said, while unlocking the door. As the door flew inside, I saw a flat screen TV, four beige chairs in the kitchen, and stairs.

I looked around, seeing the hanging chandeliers in the living room. The house definitely did not look this fancy from the outside.

George led me upstairs and into his room. His walls were packed with posters. Nirvana, Mitski, Glass Animals, The Neighborhood, Arctic Monkeys and Mother Mother. He must have an amazing taste in music.

"Sit down, Clay. There's uh... um, I actually wanted to talk to you about something." Oh no.

I sat down beside him on his bed, stroking his back softly. He inhaled sharply and I knew this was serious now.

"Are we in a... relationship? I mean, not to make it sound weird, but we kiss a lot and that just makes me feel like I'm your... you know?" His hands met mine and he squeezed my hand tightly. "Only if you want to be." The only rational answer I could allow to come through my lips. George looked at me, and before I knew it, I let the words flow out of my mouth.

"I love you."

I started panicking once he looked at me, all red and flushed. But I was the one that was blushing right now. Blushing like crazy. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to-" His lips pressed against mine and it felt euphoric.

His hand linked with mine, squeezing it tight. The warmth of his hand against mine made me want to scream.

"I love you too, Clay," George said under his breath. We both looked at each other and laughed. I pressed our foreheads together and I heard George sniffle.

"George, don't cry," I reassured him, stroking his back. "I'm sorry, it's just that I've never felt this way before. With anyone. And I'm really really happy that you like me like I do." I stopped petting his back and looked at him.

"I thought you had a girlfriend," I asked. George shook his head. "Oh, that was nothing. She was the popular girl and I was the boy that she apparently loved, just for likes and clout and all. Until we were at a party a few weeks ago. I caught her sleeping with this- this... this boy. Or man. I don't know. I never really loved her anyways. She only used me and I hate her for it."

George broke down into pieces on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't even think of her. She's the past, she doesn't matter. To neither of us." I closed my eyes, and locked my arms around his waist.

"Remember, George, I'm here. I can be the one you can talk to. I'm here."