Against All Odds

one [the obstinate and the undead]

George knew he was a difficult person to deal with at times. Yeah, he knew this, but that didn't mean he was going to do anything about it. That's just who he was: cheer captain, straight A student, school president, and a difficult, difficult person to deal with.

So, when he was told that zombies would soon be allowed at his school, of all places, he was planning on making a big, fucking deal about it.

Maybe if they were just able to walk around the same town as the humans, George would have made less of a scene (false, he would've made a scene either way), but zombies being allowed at his school, his empire, was just simply unacceptable. Those things wouldn't be going anywhere near Seabrook High if George had anything to say about it.

_____

As it turns out, being the city's favorite student did not change the minds of the mayor, or principal. No matter how many times he'd asked his mother to change her mayoral decree, nothing was fixed, and the zombies would still be ruining George's senior year.

Everything he'd worked four whole years for would be ruined as soon as those green monsters waked through the doors to 'learn' or whatever. George knew zombies ate brains, but did they even have the intelligence to comprehend something as complex as high school?

Unluckily for George, he would find out the next day, on the first day of school, when he'd see the zombies out of their natural habitat (behind gates, where they belonged) for the first time in years.

Great.

_____

On the first day of his senior year, George was wearing pewter khakis along with a light blue blouse that made his ochre eyes pop. He'd brushed his hair into a side part where his bangs were hanging just above his eyebrows, and applied only a small bit of eyeliner around his eyes.

Basically, he looked hot, and he was fully aware of that.

Before he could leave the house, his parents had stopped him, insisting that they needed to have a talk. So, George abhorrently sat down, focusing his eyes on his extensive Twitter feed instead of his parents' concerned faces.

"We know you don't like the zombies," his mother had started, her voice laced with reluctance, "but, there's nothing you can do about the school year."

George groaned and finally looked at his mother, waiting for her to say the thing he dreaded most.

"As mayor, I made the executive decision to have the town become more inclusive. Zombies have proved that with the wristbands they wear constantly, they don't serve as much of a threat that they used to." She paused, looking at George with an expression that told him not to interrupt.

"I'm not asking you to be friends with all the new zombie students, but, George, please do not be overtly rude to them. You're a leader at the school, and also the son of the town's mayor. Please, be a good example for everyone else."

George hated this, being talked to like he was a little kid. It was absurd, insane, unreasonable. He knew how to behave because, hell, he'd been doing everything he could to be perfect for his entire life. He knew how to be a good role model, his mother didn't need to ask him nicely to do so.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I won't be mean to the monsters, even if they deserve it," he sighed out, sending a small smile his mothers way before getting up and leaving for his ever-exciting first day of school.

Waiting outside of his pastel house was George's best friend (and cheer assistant captain), Karl. For the first day of school, he'd decided to wear a salmon pink shirt along with the same pewter khakis George was wearing. The brunette had decided to fluff his hair up in the front, in a way that looked clean and adorable. George truly envied Karl's ability of looking effortlessly good all the damn time.

"How excited are you for tryouts today?" Karl asked, smiling cheerfully.

Right, with all the talk about zombies and whatnot, George had completely forgotten about varsity tryouts later today. Obviously, he'd be on the team (he was captain, afterall), but he'd failed to come up with a routine for the newbies to perform later.

He groaned in response. "All the news of zombies is messing me up, Karl. I completely forgot to think of a new routine for later."

In lieu of George's self-disappointment, Karl laughed. "Well we have the same study hall this year, remember? We can just ask for passes since you're the school president and all, and figure something out in the gym."

God, George was glad he had Karl. Somehow, his friend always knew how to fix any situation George got himself into- he was great.

"Sounds like a plan," George grinned.

_____

The rest of the walk to school was spent with small banter and laughs galore.

That is, until they actually reached the school.

At the entrance to Seabrook High, a fence was set up between two sets of staircases. On one side (George's side) was a crowd of gorgeous-looking humans with pastel colored shirts, waiting outside of a pristine glass door. On the other side, however, was a group of zombies- green hair, pale skin, darkened eye sockets, beat up clothes- waltzing around as if they were meant to be there.

George supposes they were meant to be here, but in his book they were trespassing on his turf. He made sure to stay as far away as possible from them until the doors were opened for the beginning of the school day.

His mother had said not to be rude to them, sure, but she never said he had to be nice to them. And how could he even have the chance to get friendly with the monsters if he wasn't even near them? It was the perfect plan.

Well, it was the perfect plan until they were actually let in to Seabrook High.

George made sure to hurry past everyone in an effort to be first in line. People loved him, it should have worked. But, fate wasn't on his side today. He was pushed out of the way by some stupid jocks on the football team, and hit his back against the fence that separated the humans and the zombies.

Of course, it was just his luck that a zombie was leaning against the other side and managed to catch him before he could fall. Pale hands met a blue blouse, and George really wanted to scream, but there was no way in hell he was going to make a scene in front of everyone at his school. He was difficult, but not that difficult.

So, he let those pale hands guide him upright until he was turned and faced towards a tall, beaming zombie.

George studied the monster's face, looking skeptically at every aspect to try and pinpoint how exactly this thing would kill him. But, everything be damned, George found nothing.

The zombie looked friendly enough, smile wide and proud on his face as he helped George up, but, fuck, why, oh why, did George find the monster attractive?

Was he insane? Crazy? Hallucinating? Because there was no possible way that George, the purest example of everything an 18 year old human guy should be, was attracted to this. This thing with dirty blond hair that led into green streaks, and bright green eyes that were hidden by dark black and red circles around them. There was literally no possible way George could be drawn to the prominent veins running through his arms and neck, or the way his lips were darkened and eminent among his pale white skin.

There was simply no feasible way this could happen, and yet, George found himself staring googly-eyed at the monster in front of him.

"Hi," the thing said, voice sunny and bright. "I'm Dream."

God, George was so fucked, and school hadn't even begun yet.