flowers in your hair

Ecstasy

Ecstasy / Ec•sta•sy
an overwhelming feeling of great happiness or joyful excitement

August 10th // Florida - 10:17am

"Can we talk about last night?"

George turned to face the window, trying to think of a million ways to avoid that conversation. He thought of different excuses and reasons not to talk about it, but in the end he knew he had to eventually. He wanted to know some things himself, anyways.

"If you really want to, I guess."

"George, about the kiss-"

"I know, Clay. You didn't mean it. You were upset and not thinking straight, and I was too scared to stop you."

"I- So you only let me because you were too shy to say no? You didn't want to?"

"Of course not.. neither of us did, it was just too many emotions at once and it happened."

The lies poured out of George's mouth so easily. He figured it would be easier to tell Clay he understands. He didn't want to hear Clay say he didn't mean it, so he shut him out.

"But- George-"

"It's okay. Truly."

"But it's not okay!"

This was one of the first times George heard Clay raise his voice. He had only did it before when he was passionate about something or was feeling true anger. Clay slowed his breathing, and after a few moments, he continued his thought.

"It's not okay, George. I was thinking clearly. I meant it. I wanted to kiss you."

George knew in that moment he messed up a little bit. The main emotion that took over was half happiness and half fear. He was happy that it happened, and that Clay meant to kiss him, but he was scared of what that meant.

"Look, I know we left off on weird terms when I left England. Then I got with- well you know. Either way, I had feelings for you during the first trip. You know I did. I just-"

"Clay- I thought you didn't- that's why I said I didn't mean-"

George took a deep breath before continuing.

"I had feelings for you too. And when I saw you were with someone, I figured you lost feelings. I know my feelings, they never.."

"They never left..?"

George nodded his head. It was completely and utterly complicated, how they got to this point. They both had glowing ecstasy on their faces, but it was still not completely shining. They were both lost on what to say, or what would happen next. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Clay checked his watch.

The car started, and they made their way to the roller rink.

The entire time they were there, they barely said a word to each other. They skated, and they fell a few times, but they didn't talk. It was weird.

They skated side by side, their hands occasionally brushing against each other's. They wanted more. George wanted to hold his hand, right then, but it wasn't the time. It was too public, and he was too scared.

They should be nothing but happy because they know they both have feelings for each other. Yet, nothing. They were nervous about what would happen.

George was scared he would get hurt, again.

Clay was scared he would hurt George, again.

After a few hours or so of skating, eating junk food, and shamefully smiling when little kids would fall and not be able to get up, Clay checked his watch.

"The movie is starting soon, we should go."

It was a drive-in theater, and once they arrived they pulled a blanket out of the trunk and put it on the grass. They could have sat on the roof, but they were in the front row and didn't want everyone to see them be idiots.

George froze before sitting down on the blanket. It was the similar to the blanket Clay brought to their picnic in England. The only difference was that this time it wasn't a picnic, and George knew how Clay felt about him. It gave him a sense of relief. He smiled as he sat down on the blanket next to his old lifeline.

The entire time until the movie began, Clay made the stupidest jokes to try and get them to a point where they weren't as awkward. It worked, the contagious laugh they both had brought them to a place where they forgot they had ever drifted apart. It was just like old times.

"Wow George- Should I be calling this a date?"

"I suppose you could, as long as you are paying."

"Please- This was my idea."

"Exactly."

They laughed about it for a few minutes, and then the movie began. George being the baby he is kept getting scared from the dinosaurs randomly popping up at times. Clay only laughed at him until one time he jumped next to Clay and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Clay put his hand on George's back and they sat there, like that, for the rest of the movie. The occasional tiny yell George would let out sent them both off into giggles, until someone nearby would shush them.

It was magical, how quickly they reconnected. They were still each other's other half. They were still best friends, whether they fell out for a while or not.

After the movie ended, neither of the boys could stop smiling. They drove home, and halfway through the car ride, George said he was cold. They both reached for the A/C knob, ready to turn it down, but were met with each other's hands. They flinched at the unexpected touch. It felt like electricity.

Clay reached his hand out, offering to hold George's. George looked at him, and then back at his hand. He hesitated, but in the end he accepted. Clay's hands were always warm, conveniently.

When they got home, Clay got out of the car before George and found a note with writing in sharpie taped to the door.

xxx-xxx-xxxx, call me. we need to talk.

Clay ripped the note down and put it in his pocket. He turned his head around quickly with a weird look in his eyes, curious to see if George saw the note. He was still getting out of the car.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's perfectly fine."

George smiled at him, and Clay let a small one out in return. They went inside, and said goodnight, and went to their separate rooms. George laid himself down on his bed, and couldn't stop the overwhelming joy he had from bringing a smile to his face. He smiled so much he put a pillow over his face and let out an excited squeal.

On the other side of things, once Clay got into his room, he sat on his bed and took out the note. He read it over and over in his head, recognizing the handwriting. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want that part of his life to come back. But, he had to. He couldn't stop himself.

Then he dialed the number.

And he pressed a button.

And the phone started to ring.

And the ringing stopped.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jess."

Total Word Count: 1202