Against All Odds

four [objection and opposition]

When George got home, his parents were waiting for him at the kitchen table.

As soon as he opened the door, his mother was springing up, speed-walking over to him with shades of gray distraught over her features. "Honey! Are you okay? You're half an hour later than usual."

"I'm fine," he brushed off as he sat down next to his dad. "Just had some extra things to do for the first day of tryouts."

"Oh!" His mom yelped excitedly. "How were they? Will Seabrook win for the 20th year in a row?"

God, George hated helicopter parents. He was already stressed about the stupid zombies as well as his duties as cheer captain and being president. The first day of tryouts was something he did not want to talk about at the moment. But, it was his parents, so he sucked it up.

"Yep," he lied. "Everything, and everyone, looks great already."

His mother took his hands into her own. "I bet your routine will be even better than mine!"

Right, his mom was the first person to lead Seabrook to victory all those years ago, and now he was expected to follow in her footsteps. As much as he wanted to win as well, the expectations that were always set for him always seemed much too high (and yet, being the amazing kid he was, he always went above and beyond them).

"I don't know about that, mom," he laughed nervously.

"Nonsense," his father cut in. "We know you'll be amazing. You always are."

George smiled halfheartedly and dug into the food in front of him. He could already tell it would be a long night.

In the morning, the student council supervisor ended up asking George to come visit. Apparently, for the election in a week, they needed some equipment from the basement. But, the only problem with needing things from the basement, was that zombies were currently residing there.

Yes, the lower level of the school, used for storage- and sometimes cheering- was being inhabited by brain-eating zombies. Sure, George had gone into the basement the other day to practice the routine for tryouts, but that was on the opposite side of the school from the zombies. The things he needed now for student council was on the storage side, with the zombies.

George couldn't say no to the teacher running his future career, so he happily obliged to go right into the brain zone.

If he was scared (which he definitely wasn't), he wouldn't be showing it. The zombies would not be getting under his skin more than they already were.

So, with his head held high, George made his way to the basement, the zombie infested basement.

At the bottom of the creaky stairs was a door, so, as one does, George knocked on it.

The voices he had heard behind the door previously turned hushed, and he heard footsteps walking towards him. The door was opened, and, of course, it was none other than Dream.

"What are you doing here?" the zombie asked, voice suspicious.

"I need some stuff for student council, so," he turned to gaze inside the room- dozens of green-haired heads were looking his way, "if you'll let me just grab it quickly, I'll be out of your guys' way before you can blink."

Dream debated for only a second, and then he was stepping aside, allowing George to waltz in and rush to the corner, collecting all the supplies he needed.

He could feel the zombie's eyes on him, and he couldn't help feel like he was being singled out. Honestly, he was the only human in the room, so it made sense, but it didn't make him feel any better.