Star Boy - DNF

011

When George returned to school, he

didn't expect all the prying eyes.

And he didn't expect a note in his

locker, and a picture of himself

lying bloody and bruised on the

concrete.

"YOU WERE BETTER OFF DEAD FAGGOT"

He got various comment like that

throughout the day.

Giggles.

Stares.

Pointing.

Hushed whispers.

"Hey Georgie." A familiar voice said,

interrupting his perfectly good book.

George ignored Dream and continued

reading his book.

"Georgiee..." His voice turned into one

of teasing as he felt Dream sit right next

to him.

And the feeling of their shoulders pushed

against each other, and a calloused hand

barely brushing against his clothed knee.

And that fuzzy feeling was back in his

system.

Making him feel like someone had

turned the heater on.

Making it feel like something was

churning in his stomach.

"Hey Georgie." Dream says, his minty

breath barely fanning against the shell

of George's ear.

George could just hear the cockiness

rolling off his tongue.

Like he knew how flustered George felt.

"Hey Dream." George replies, feeling the

wobble in his voice.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine."

Dream then attempted to make small talk

for the remainder of the lunch break, with

George talking minimally.

And then when the bell rang he gave George

a slip of paper.

A paper which had his number.

A paper that drove George even closer to the

brink of insanity.