New shoes | dnf

Chapter Twenty Eight

Clay POV:

I knew I should wake George up, have him call his mom, but I didn't want to. He looked so peaceful, so calm and I didn't want to take that away from him. But on the other hand, I knew when he got up he'd be pissed that I hadn't woke him to call her.

"George.." I coaxed shaking him lightly. "George wake up."

The brunette stirred in the bed, curling himself under the covers.

"Do you wanna call you're mom?"

At that, he instantly perked up, and nodded. I could tell he was still tired, but he tried to hide it as best he could to make sure I wouldn't change my mind.

I got up and dragged myself over to my suitcase, grabbing a bag full of disposable flip phones and sat down next to the Brit.

"Do you remember her number?"

"Yeah. **********"

I input the numbers he had given me, but hesitated pressing call.

"What are you waiting for do it!" He pleaded.

What if she was dead? What would he do? How would he react? How would I react? And what if she's alive and knows George is missing? She would call the cops. This is a bad idea. A terrible idea. They could trace us! Well not with a disposable cell, but what if George tipped them off or something? He wouldn't. He didn't last time ...But what if he did?

So many questions wondered through my head, so many that I couldn't answer. I hated it. I hated not knowing what was going to happen.

I pulled him onto my lap, and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to grab the phone, but I only pulled it away, waiting for him to calm down.

"Stop moving." I demanded. The Brit did as he was told, and settled into my chest. "Alright. When I press dial, you are going to ask about you're mom, get the news, and I'm going to hang up. I swear to fucking god, if you even think about tipping them off, I will not hesitate to hang up and beat the shit out of you. Understood?"

I felt bad for the harsh tone that laced my words, I could tell by the way he sat frozen he was nervous. He nodded regardless.

"Okay. Don't speak until someone answers. If no one answers don't leave a message."

He nodded again, and I pressed call. It rang a few times, but a British lady that sounded around George's age, maybe even a bit older, answered.

"Hello?"

George turned to look at me for permission, which I granted.

"Hello, um this is George Davidson, I'm looking for my mother Lena Davidson?"

"Oh- I didn't know she still has contact with her son!"

"Um well, we haven't talked to each other in a long while and I wanted to see how she was doing... Is she there?"

She hesitated a second.

"George..." She was dead. I could tell by her change in tone. Energetic and uplifting to gentle and soft. "There's no easy way to say this... you might want to sit down-"

"She's dead isn't she?" The brunette's voice cracked, I could tell he was about ready to sob. My heart broke hearing his voice so low-spirited.

"Yes... I'm so sorry if I had known she had contact with you I would have called right away-"

"No need to explain yourself, thank you for you're time."

"Of course. You just missed her, the doctors had her on life support until a couple of hours ago. Once again I-I'm so sorry for you're loss."

At this point he was biting down on his lip to hold back his tears, it looked like it was about to start bleeding again. He only stayed silent, waiting for me to hang up, but I refrained when the woman's emerged again.

"Your mom, she was a lovely lady. I was her caretaker when she was sick. She told me a lot about you, stories of you when you were little. She also told me that she hadn't talked to you in years which is why I didn't think of calling. She loved you though. She loved you a lot."

"She did?"

"Oh yes of course. She wouldn't stop talking about you most the time I was here! She told me about the fight you had, and that if I ever did come into contact with you, to tell you that she was sorry."

The Brit let a small sniffle escape his lips, tears streaming down his face.

"I-I should be the one apologizing- she must think I hate her-"

"No George, she knows that you love her. I promise you that."

A moment of silence followed, both Brits took a second to mourn the one they had lost.

"Her funeral is in two days at Noalsan Cemetery if you'd like to come... we'd love to have you."

Pff... absolutely fucking not.

Another sniffle managed to slip its way out of his mouth. "No, I-I don't think I can arrange that... but if you don't mind could you tell everyone that I would have liked to be there and loved her beyond imaginable, and maybe send a quick message to my friend my friend Will?"

What the fuck is he doing?

My thumb hovered over the end button, but he turned around and mouthed 'please'

I rolled my eyes, but nodded.

"Will? As in Wilbur Soot?"

"Yes,"

"Oh, he's right here! Would you like to speak with him?"

No. Say no George.

He looked at me and I shook my head, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. 'please' he mouthed.

'no'
'please!'
'no!'

"George? Are you there?"

"Uh- yes."

"Would you like to speak with him? He's right in the other room it wouldn't be a bother for me to go fetch him!"

"Yes. That'd be lovely thank you."

"Alright! I'll be back in a minute with him!" With that shuffling echoed throughout the speaker of the phone, with silence following.

I leaned into his ear, making the hair on the back of his neck jump.

"Try anything, and I'll personally go to England and axe both their heads off."

"George?"

"Will?"

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this is kinda a filler chapter sorry

1051 words