Manipulation High

Chapter 67: Wet

Chapter name sounds hot. maybe some 💋 will come from it.
Should George suck up his pride and get his sex on, or could Clay apologise before ruthlessly pounding into him (and apologising for that too).

-I lost a bet to Ezra and so saying that is my punishment.

Enjoy.
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George POV.

Fat raindrops were splattering against the windows of the bus as we drove back to the campsite, and a lot of the students were talking about what was currently happening. Apparently it wasn't uncommon for it to rain around the area we were staying, especially as it was getting closer to Winter.

This type of weather didn't seem like it was going to be ending any time soon, and I heard Mrs Rogers talking to the bus driver about the possibility of having to go home early since with terrible weather we'd all probably be confined to our tents for the entire time. I couldn't say that I wouldn't be happy if we did end up going back early.

According to their conversation though, we'd have to be leaving in the morning since we would get back well after dark if we left tonight, and that was about the time I went back to focusing on looking out the window. Sure enough, the dirt roads were already becoming mud, coating the side of the bus as we drove. That couldn't be a good sign.

Clay was sitting beside me, watching me quietly. He had not said a word after I caught him looking through his book. I wanted to ask him about what he was planning on doing, however I decided not to, instead I just knew, and he knew that I knew, that if he wanted to be my friend again then he had to get rid of it.

The bus finally stopped and all of the students clambered out of our seats, with the bus driver telling us all to be careful because of how slippery it probably was. Nobody listened to him though, with a lot of girls especially screaming because they didn't want their hair to get wet.

Mrs Rogers instructed us all to head back to our tents and stay there. Saying that since the weather was so bad she'll discuss with the other adults what we should do once they arrive on the other bus which had left after ours.

So I did what she told me to do and walked to before climbing inside. Thankfully it was dry, however the pattering of rain against the sides was almost deafening. Plus, I was cold and wet, and my sleeping bag wouldn't be too warm.

As I began rifling through my bag for my towel and a pair of warm clothes to change into, I heard Clay come in, and he shook slightly before going to his bag and beginning to look for his towel for himself. Neither of us spoke as we found our towels and wrapped them around our bodies before sitting on our sleeping bags.

After we got settled I watched as the blond pulled his pocketbook out and began to examine it quietly, using his flashlight because of the quickly darkening sky. It was clear that he knew I was watching him, but he made sure to avoid eye contact with me the entire time.

Though he wasn't writing in it, which is something that puzzled me. Instead he was just looking over the book, occasionally flicking through the pages but never actually writing anything. Other times his hand would brush over the leather cover, what was probably an emerald green to him appearing as a boring yellow to me.

Waiting to see what he was going to do with the book was getting too much for me and so I decided to ask, "are you going to write something in it?" There was a pause, just a moment of silence really. I figured that maybe he hadn't heard me over the thunderous sound of rain, however after a couple more seconds he did respond.

"No." He spoke quietly. "There is nothing that I want, or need to write." He took a while to let out a long breath before saying, "just looking at it." He stayed 'just looking at it' for who knows how long before someone called to us from outside the tent.

"Who is in this tent?" Someone asked, and even though the sound of the miserable weather was almost deafening we could recognise the voice of Mr Ryans.
"Clay and George!" I answered back, trying to be as loud and as clear as possible, before looking over at Clay.

"Okay thank you both!" He called back. "Because of the weather you two need to stay in your tent, at least for tonight. Someone will bring around food later, this is just a precaution about safety due to the weather. And don't leave your tent until we say tomorrow morning."

We both told him that we understood before listening to the squelching of his footsteps as he walked away through the muddy ground to another tent, and could barely hear the faint sounds of him repeating the same questions to them. After turning away I decided to pass the time by grabbing my own flashlight and reading the book I had brought.

The sound of me just flicking through pages mindlessly filled the tent. Annoyingly, I had finished the book I had brought with me last night, so I had no new reading material for the rest of the trip. I took some time to attempt to go back through my favourite chapters and read those, or to start from the beginning, however I had no motivation to do that.

"You're shivering." I heard Clay say, and my eyes widened slightly before turning to look at the blond who was watching me silently while laying on his sleeping bag.
All I responded with was a small 'and?' as in 'and why is this your problem?'.

Though it seems that he didn't take what I said like that. "And that can't be good for you. You'll freeze George! Why don't you put another hoodie on? Or your jacket? Or anything?"
"No need." I responded. "I will be fine."

The blond didn't say anything to me afterwards, but furrowed his brows when I buried myself further in my sleeping bag. I tried to avoid looking at him as I rolled over but heard the sound of movement coming from behind me after that and glanced over my shoulder to see him shuffling his sleeping bag closer to mine.

A confused look appeared on my face, especially since I only turned away for a couple of seconds, but he had gotten really close to me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him, which was something that surprised me, however I didn't complain when I collided with his warm chest, (as much as I hated to admit it).

The blond's body heat was something that I instead leaned into, while I told myself it was because I was cold, and that was partially the reason, I knew there was another one. As much as I hated to admit it, I missed the blond's touch, and so I allowed myself to stay in the safe and warm embrace he gave me.
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1229 words.

2 days until Antiheroes is out.