Against All Odds

five [cheering and chivalry]

George was really starting to hate cheer.

Tryouts were better than the day before, but the whole routine was still lacking something. Everyone looked like they were trying their best, but, still, everything just looked wrong.

Karl and Tina looked amazing, as usual, and George obviously looked outstanding, but everything else was simply meh.

The second day of tryouts didn't end with an aggravating conversation with Dream, or a mendacious talk with his parents. After school, all he did was design the posters for his presidential campaign while finishing his maths assignment.

In the morning, he arrived extra early in order to print out and distribute his posters around the school. What he didn't expect, was for a certain zombie to also be putting up his own posters.

Turning down the music hall, George was greeted with his favorite green-headed zombie, hanging up his own green-colored posters. They were embedded with the dumbest slogan George had ever seen: vote me to accomplish your Dreams. He wanted to barf.

"Hello, there my fellow presidential competitor," Dream said with a beaming smile.

"Your posters are ridiculous," George remarked, rolling his eyes as he did so. (Truth be told, the picture of Dream grinning residing on the left side of the poster was kinda of- okay, very- attractive. George still hated it, though.)

"I'm sure yours are much better," he said, still smiling. George hated that smile (it was so, so attractive yet aggravating at the same time.)

In all honesty, George's posters did not look as cool as Dream's. Sure, his were more sophisticated-looking and cleaner, but Dream's neon colors and loony fonts made his posters look so much more appealing. At least George knew he could win the debate. His way with words was ten times better than his creativity.

George ignored the blonde and instead hung up his own poster alongside Dream's. Light blue clashed with neon green, and George felt sick at the thought that the two colors looked good together.

He put up one last poster before walking to another hallway.

Dream, being the annoying zombie he was, decided to follow George around wherever he went. It was infuriating, to say the least.

When all of his posters had run out, George made his way over to the student council room in an effort to complain about his new opponent to his supervisor. The only problem with this idea, was that Dream followed him. So, there was no complaining, and only faux chatter about how exciting it was for a zombie to be running for Seabrook pres. George really hated how thrilled the supervisor seemed. If everyone loved George so much, then why were they trying so hard to kick him out?

His day sucked because of it.

Classes were terrible because the only thing anybody talked about was how insane the elections would be this year. Sure, they were talking about how George would totally demolish his opposer, but, still, he didn't want to talk about it regardless.

Then, at the end of the day, the school decided to host a last-second pep rally for the game on Friday. Why they were holding it on a Tuesday- George had no idea.

So, he reluctantly went, and had the squad throw together some halfhearted cheers. They looked so terrible, and lame, and downright stupid that George simply wanted to quit cheering right then and there, but he pushed on anyway.

The football guys came in about halfway through, and, no surprise, Dream was leading the way. George absolutely loathed the way the spandex fit him perfectly, and he downright detested how good his hair looked when soaked in water (yeah, apparently the football guys had a tradition of dumping water over everyone's heads before the first pep rally of the year).

The team stood in the center of the gym as the principal introduced them. He'd acted as if this year would be any different from the past ones, like they would actually win a game. And hey, maybe they would with two dumb-looking zombies on the team.

"I hate zombies," George sighed as he leaned his forehead against Karl's chest. They were seated in the bleachers now, front row.

"I dunno. Number 7 is kinda cute," Karl observed with a giggle.

George looked up at the team, and next to Dream was the zombie from the day before, the guy with the stupid-as-hell bandana tying his hair back.

"Really?" he deadpanned.

Karl scoffed. "Yeah, he's nice. I met him yesterday after cheer. Said I looked pretty."

George rolled his eyes and huffed. Why couldn't the stupid monsters just leave him and his friends alone?

"Don't think I haven't noticed you ogling Dream every time he passes you in the hall," Karl added with a knowing glare.

"You know Dream?"

Karl smiled. "Yeah, of course, I do. He was with Sapnap when he flirted with me, and then I saw him in the hall today and told him his posters looked cool!"

Why did Karl have to be so nice? God, sometimes it was so nettling.

"Hey," he said, voice stern, "you're only allowed to like my posters... even if his are kinda cool."

Karl snickered and bumped George's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm still voting for you. But... we should definitely go on a double date or something."

"With who?"

Karl smiled mischievously.

"If you think I'm ever going on a date with Dream, you are strongly mistaken," he whispered vigorously.

It was now time to perform their routine- the one they'd been working on for less than two days. Karl smiled, and said, "If you say so."

George scowled and took his position.

They were stood in the bleachers, first and second row (George was in the third, along with Tina and Karl, since they were the leaders.)

They did their dumb dances and chants and it actually looked kind of good, until the end.

One of the stupid freshmen in the second row was falling back onto George, and now George was falling forward. He closed his eyes and expected the worst, planning on hitting harsh metal and laminate floors.

But, then, strong arms caught him, and he was being held, bridal style, by someone with really toned biceps.

He opened his eyes, and it was Dream, of course, it was Dream. The zombie was grinning, so George rolled his eyes and demanded to be put down.

"That's what I get for saving you from eternal pain and suffering?" Dream questioned maliciously.

George suddenly became aware of the fact that they were standing in a huge gymnasium filled with almost five hundred people. And, he was being held like a baby in the arm's of the zombie he was running against for president.

"Dream," he pushed, "put me down."

The zombie rolled his eyes, but obliged to drop the brunette's legs. George was about to say a reluctant 'thank you' but Dream's arm remained sneakily around the brunette's waist, hugging right above George's skirt.

The brunette brushed him off and walked away silently.

He didn't need saving, and he definitely didn't need Dream.

George would fix the stupid cheer team, win the Seabrook presidency, and impress everyone around him.

He had to.