calamity / dreamnotfound

The Stars Know All

The early morning alarm never bothered George before. In fact, he was quite the morning person; he started his days with warm tea before walking to his classes, all of which were over by the early afternoon, leaving the rest of the day for himself. But this morning, he sincerely regretted signing up for his 8:30am lecture.

The cold air that circulated his bedroom seemed to trap him under his warm cove of blankets, and he could not imagine how anyone could willingly leave. He even briefly considered sleeping through the lecture before remembering his friend, Maia, would be expecting him to meet her for coffee after their class.

George groaned and pulled a sheet over his head as if hiding from the sun would make it go away. It did not, however, so he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stood up, wrapping a blanket around himself.

He trudged to the bathroom and the man looking back at him in the mirror was not someone he recognized. His hair was an unruly dark brown mess, and his eyes were lined with light grey circles, but he could not figure why he was so tired this morning. George turned on the faucet to run some water over his face in hopes that it would cure the groggy state.

George wet his hands and rubbed his face, letting the cold water drip down his cheek. He started to feel a little more awake.

He went to grab a towel but pulled his hand back instinctively. The only cloth on the counter was dotted with blood. Suddenly, the memories of last night flooded him—the rain, the dusty and broken remnants of 32nd street, and the blond boy that laughed with him in the dark. George's eyes widened and he stumbled back, entirely alert. His heart raced as fast as his thoughts, realizing what he agreed to when he told Clay he would help them.

He must be insane—had he really fallen for this drug dealer's charm? All he knows is scraping his way to survive, of course he would say whatever George wanted to hear in order to gain another asset. George felt like an idiot.

George decided right then that he was not going to continue indulging this criminal. After class he would call Clay and tell him that he was out. He was at university to get a business degree, join some corporation after he graduated, make money, then die happy—nowhere in the plan was there room for green-eyed distractions like Clay.

~

The business administration building was quiet, the only noises coming from closing doors or the scurrying of late students to their morning classes. Morning sunlight filtered through the grand atrium windows, casting a white light on the marble floors.

George hurried into one of the classrooms on the right and into the lecture hall where his class was held. Nearly one-quarter of the seats were filled which was surprising for an early lecture. Among them was his friend Maia, a fellow third year at their university. She perked up upon seeing him and waved him over to the empty seat on her left. He smiled sheepishly at the professor and took his seat.

"Somebody partied too hard last night," she remarked teasingly, shifting toward George. She held her thin-rimmed gold glasses she used for reading in her hand. "Have you finally conformed to the party lifestyle our pristine school has to offer?"

"That'll be the day," he grinned. "Thanks for saving me a seat."

"Thank you for proofing my paper...which you did do...right?"

George's stomach plummeted. He completely forgot about agreeing to help Maia with her end-of-term paper.

Her brown eyes narrowed and bored into him. "Then this seat's taken."

He stared blankly at her. "W-what? I promise I'll read it over tonight, I—"

"I'm just messing!" She broke into laughter, tucking her wavy brown hair that hovered above her shoulder behind her ear. Relief washed over him, and he smiled with her. "I really don't care if you didn't get around to it, but for the record, I did get around to reading yours."