Against All Odds

fourteen [consequences and quarrels]

On the ride back to his house, in a cop car of all places, George was boiling.

He actually felt like he was on fire.

His ears were ringing, his face was beat red, there was practically smoke coming out of his ears, and his hands were starting to hurt from how tight they were being held into fists.

Dream couldn't just do that. He couldn't kiss George, make the brunette feel all sorts of things he'd never felt before, and then leave. He'd left George alone to deal with the cops and now the brunette was sat in a cop car on the way to his house.

The house where he'd snuck out from. And the house where his parents were probably waiting to reprimand him about being in zombie town past curfew.

He groaned and turned to the officer. "Sam, are you sure you have to tell my parents about this?"

The cop scoffed. He was young, only a couple of years older than George, and because George's dad was the chief of police, he'd practically known Sam all his life. "Your dad will kill me if I don't bring you home, kid."

George frowned. "Don't call me kid, you're like twenty-two. I'm eighteen."

Sam smiled and kept driving.

When they got to the house, George could see that all the lights were on. He imagined his parents sitting in the living room, his mom with a worried look on her face, and his dad holding a frown.

Before Sam could even ring the doorbell, the door was flung open and his mom was hugging him. He could barely even breathe.

"We were so worried about you," she gushed. "When Sam told us where you were, I couldn't help to worry over what might have happened if the cops didn't come in."

George scoffed. "I thought you liked the zombies."

His mom frowned. "I do. But that doesn't mean I support them going out past curfew to have an underground party. Especially when my son is involved."

"Thanks, Sam," Mr. Davidson said.

"Of course, Chief."

Sam left George alone with his parents and suddenly he was really wishing the blonde would come back so there was at least some type of buffer. Now, his buffer was gone and there was no telling what his parents might dish out at him.

"What were you thinking?" His father asked furiously.

He stayed quiet. Honestly, what was he thinking? He had gone out with Dream on a 'date' of some sort, met his sister and cat, danced with the zombie, and then proceeded to kiss said zombie in a room full of lights.

It wasn't the usual George-like behavior.

But why did he enjoy it so much?

"Honey," his mom said, cradling his arm, "You could have been hurt. What if their Z bands stopped working? You would have been trapped in a room full of zombies with no way out."

George kind of wanted to cry.

"I don't know..." he said instead.

His father crossed his arms and looked at him with a serious frown. "Who were you with?"

This was the time when George could tell them. He could tell them that Dream led him there. That the star football player and school president led him to an underground zombie bash. If he told them, the zombies would surely be kicked back to the basement. Maybe George could even be president. If he told them now, he would be.