Super | Dreamnotfound

And so it begins

Chapter 55

TW// amputation, blood (described in detail), throwing up

THREE AND A HALF YEARS AGO
(just about)

"I hate high school." George said, throwing his book on the floor of Nick's room. The other boy swivelled around in his chair to look at him.

"Why?"

"There's too much homework! Miss Nesbit gave me an entire worksheet to do. She gave me one yesterday as well! I swear, her favourite thing is just giving students homework." He said, lying down on the floor of the room.

"Well, then just don't do the homework." Nick said with a smile.

"I want to actually pass. God, it's so much harder than middle school. Eighth grade was so easy." George sighed.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better. Sophomore is harder next year apparently." Nick said with a shrug.

George turned to look at his friend, his expression unamused.

"How does that make me feel any better?"

"Dunno."

George just groaned, and rolled over onto his stomach, checking his phone. He saw a notification and rolled his eyes at the message.

"That guy, Alex, I think his name is? He texted me for help on the math worksheet. Like I know how to do it." George scoffed.

"Oh, Alex who sat with us one time last week? I like him. I think I heard some people calling him Quackity." Nick said.

"What kind of a name is that?"

"An epic one."

"Well. Whatever. I can't help him." George typed out a response. "I said he should ask Darryl. That guy is a math genius."

There was talking heard outside, and Nick immediately got up and dashed to his window, opening the blinds just wide enough to look out.

"What are you doing?" George asked with raised eyebrows.

"There's a new family moving in next door today. They have a kid who looks like he could be our age." Nick said, spying on the neighbours.

"Is he cute?" George sat up.

"You're such an idiot." Nick laughed. George ignored him, and stood up and ran to his side, also peering out of the window.

There was a moving van next door, with some people helping move furniture inside. Standing on the sidewalk was a young boy with brown hair and a kind smile who was talking to who George assumed was his mother.

"Oh, he is kind of cute." George said with a raised eyebrow. "Not my type though."

"Well, what- what is your type then?" Nick asked, looking back out of the window. George stepped back with a shrug, sitting on the chair Nick was previously in.

"Tall."

"Well that's easy considering you're the shortest boy in the grade." Nick laughed.

"Shut up! You're only a few inches taller! I'll catch up by senior year. You watch. I'll be taller than you." He said.

"Sure, bud."

George rolled his eyes and hummed. A few more seconds passed.

"Blonde."

"Oh god, you're still going." Nick groaned.

"What? Come on. Tall and blonde. You can't tell me that's not instantly attractive."