After Fire - Dreamnotfound

Eleven|top-secret george knowledge

The notion that you're supposed to tell your best friends everything is nothing more than ideological thinking. The truth is that you don't tell your best friend everything. You don't tell anyone everything. There has to be a limit. As much as I tell Wilbur I tell him everything, I don't.

George liked clout goggles ever since Wilbur had jokingly given a pair to him for his seventeenth birthday. He liked the way they looked on not just him, but anyone who snagged his pair to try on. Which was why whenever he found himself lost for things to do, he took a pen and drew it around his smiley face marking on his right wrist. He colored in the lenses and added a blob body. When he was done, he sat back and looked at the result before adding shading and stars around it.

When he finished and looked up, he watched the Virginia sign pass by. The sky behind it was a brassy orange color. Unfortunately, George couldn't see the sunset from all the trees encompassing them.

"Sweet, we're in Virginia," He pointed out, glancing to the other boy. Eyes locked on the road, the same as it had been for past few silent hours. "Anything cool happen here hundreds of years ago?"

"Yeah. Quite a bit, actually," Clay replied quietly, glancing up at the rearview mirror. "Jamestown— the first permanent colony, started here. You can actually still visit it, which is kind of cool." He paused. "Umm Thomas Jefferson lived here. He was the third president of the United States. I have a bittersweet opinion of him. On one hand, he signed the Declaration of Independence and did have an overall positive influence on our country, but on the other hand, he was a slave owner. But we can't really hold the founding fathers accountable for that. Not just because it was normal back then and some of this country's greatest heroes were slave owners, but also because they're dead so they wouldn't listen to us anyway."

"Interesting," George said. "What else happened?"

The younger boy shrugged. "A lot. I don't know where to start."

"Whose side were they on for the Civil War?"

"The south. Actually, fun fact, the reason why West Virginia exists is because Virginia was divided over slavery so they split to fight against one another in the war."

"Nice, that's pretty cool," George replied. He was about to speak up again when Clay glanced at him.

"Look, Shorty, I don't really want to talk."

"Why?"

"It's nothing, really. I just don't feel like talking."

"Okay, fair enough," George said. "By the way, gripping the wheel until your knuckles turn white doesn't give you any more control over it."

"Sorry," He mumbled.

"Also, your turn signal is on and we're going down a straight road."

He flicked the signal off, and George said, "You know, Clay, they say that emotional driving can increase the chances of crashing."

"I'm not emotional," Clay said, though George heard the edge to his voice.

"I was just saying."

"Just leave me be."

"Kind of difficult to do in a car."

The younger boy rolled his eyes before double taking into the rearview mirror. His face drained of color. "Ah shit, Shorty. There's a cop behind us."

George looked through the mirror. "Their sirens aren't on, so we're fine. Just stay calm."

"How the fuck do I stay calm?" His grip tightened even more on the wheel.