"You don't drown by falling into the water. You only drown if you stay there."
— Zig Ziglar

Confrontation, aside from the word 'friend' was another word George desperately hated. It wasn't even the confrontation part; it was just that confrontation was a part of communication, which George also hated.

Yeah, George hated a lot of things. Like the boy who seemed to not understand to leave him alone.

"Come on, I just asked you why you're always so uptight; why are you walking away?" The guy chuckled as he lightly speed-walked after George. George didn't need to hear anything from anyone at the moment. Especially if it was Andrew Thompson, the senior who just adored walking up to girls in his free time and had such a way with words that half the school wanted to punch him in the face. He was a typical loud boy with black hair, wearing leather jackets and all that. What he was doing bothering George as an afterschool activity, George himself didn't understand since today Andrew had his ballet lessons after school (or so he'd heard). People were supposed to be leaving George alone, anyway.

"Hey, don't talk to the mute boy like that! He won't be able to answer you." Jason was a blond, pudgy, yet tall guy who always walked hand-in-hand with Andrew. It was no surprise the two were together to track George down. Also, George was pretty sure Jason had a crush on the latter, but he never looked into it. They could just be friends. Not that it mattered to him anyway.

"Damn... Do you reckon he knows sign language at least, then?" Andrew gave a scoff of mocking pity.

"What the hell's your problem?" George turned around and hissed through his teeth. This ended up with the two boys almost walking into George and almost breaking his bubble. George stepped back with ease to avoid it from happening.

"Jesus Christ, it's a miracle! Jason, it talks!" Andrew giddily jumped up and down and shook his friend's arm.

"Piss off and go to your dumb dance practice." George scoffed and turned away. "Don't talk to me."

This apparently upset Andrew very much; he ignored the fact that half the school knows he's a dancer as soon as he opened his dumb mouth.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that? You think boys can't dance? What do you think you're doing anyway, finding out my dance schedule?" He snarled. Andrew pulled George back by his hoodie and slammed him into a locker.

George yelped and hastily tried to balance himself.

"I never fucking said that! I told you to stop tailing me!"

"Drew, come on, he has no friends; he probably just listens in on conversations! We all get bored sometimes; imagine how lonely he must be. Leave him alone." Jason's shoulders slumped. He seemed to be trying to reason with his friend, but Andrew didn't seem to care.

George just glared at Andrew's forehead, not having the will to look him in the eyes. It was the perfect tactic to make someone uncomfortable. Obviously, making someone uncomfortable equals someone leaving George alone and George being happy.

"Aww, you look like one of those angry four-foot-five girls, George. Or... Georgina? What should I call you? Are you jealous that I have the balls to go to ballet classes and you don't?"

George's hands were getting clammy and shaky from this. He hated talking to people, let alone rude people, let alone rude people that cornered him for the fun of it.

"Hey, Andrew, that's not cool! What are you doing?" George's head snapped up to see Clay walking over to investigate the scene of the brutal harassment of a lifetime.

"I'm just standing up for myself! This guy has nothing better to do than follow the lives of people more successful than him and stalk them!"

George would've spat at Andrew for twisting his words, but he couldn't seem to get enough breath to say them. So George helplessly opened his mouth to take a breath of air, only for it to stutter out of him.

George would've preferred to not pass out right now, but he couldn't get to his backpack; it was in his locker.

Literally everyone knows what you do! Why do you torture me this way? Why does everyone torture me this way? George graned to himself.

"Drew, literally the whole school follows ***** instagram. We all know ***** practices, which, might I add, are really ***** but that's no excuse to rile someone up like that." George heard Clay talk from far away. He caught snippets of words, snippets of the moving tile floor beneath him.

"Let's go." He freaked out upon getting dragged away. He darted his head around, only to see Clay freely pulling George away from the two boys. "You look stressed; drink some water. Here."

The two paused in front of a water fountain, and George awkwardly looked at it for a moment before bending down and drinking from it. Water fountains were stupid; no one could ever drink enough from them to satisfy their thirst, and water would always slide down their cheeks and chins in the process. George drank anyway. Water cleared his mind after a while. He could see again. The ringing that George didn't even register was gone from his mind.

"That must've been tough. Why don't I take you out to eat, if you need a break? I have a car; I can drive us." Clay shrugged. "Unless you're busy?"

"I- I am busy." George's voice felt scratchy.

"Oh? With what?"

George gritted his teeth. He didn't need to explain himself to Clay.

"Stop bothering me." George just walked off. He knew he should've said thank you. He knew that Clay had just unknowingly saved him from a panic attack. Yet he knew he couldn't take up the offer. His bubble restricted Clay from getting closer to him, and that was final. George's bubble knew better than him, so he had no problem following its orders on who to push back in what way.

George got his backpack out of his locker and sprinted to the parking lot, only to find out the buses had already left.

"Motherfuckers..." George swore quietly under his breath. He desperately hoped Andrew was also late to his ballet practice. He ultimately decided he had no other option and began his long stroll home.

"Hey! Did you change your mind?" George heard that goddamned voice again, and turned to bore into Clay's nose.

"No. You all made me miss the bus. I'm walking home."

"Come on, don't be that way. Please? We can go to a cafe and have a nice chat? We don't have to talk if you don't want to!"

"What's the point, then, if you don't want to talk?"

Clay shifted awkwardly. "Well, admittedly I just wanted to ask if you were doing alright. If you really don't want to, then I won't force you. But I'd really like to be in your presence... for an hour or so."

George's gaze dropped to the asphalt and landed on Clay's dark green Air Forces. It couldn't really hurt... Lunch in the cafeteria was terrible anyway, so he might as well get free food.

"Fine."

~~~

The drive was silent. The walk to the cafe was silent. The ordering process was silent, and sitting outside in the calming sun was, surprisingly, silent as well. George wanted to see how long it would take Clay to crack. They'd been surrounded purely by the waving of trees and a light wind. It softly swayed the napkins propped up on the table for over thirty minutes, and Clay looked as though he was about to burst from not talking for so long. He seemed as though he was respecting George's boundaries, so George gave props to him for that.

"So um-"

George spoke too soon.

"You told me we weren't going to talk." George spoke in the most mundane voice he could muster. It didn't discourage Clay, for some reason.

"I... I know, but I just wanted to get your side of the story on what happened. I take it you didn't actually mean to insult Andrew?"

"I wanted to leave, and he kept bothering me. Played up the victim card and slammed me into a locker. The end." George went in for a drink of his cola.

"Uh... okay." It was a bit pathetic how hard Clay tried to progress the conversation and work with the absolute minimum he was given. "I actually haven't ever gotten your name, surprisingly. We've talked so many times and never came around to it!"

George couldn't even hide his eye roll for that one. Talked so many times. It was almost comedic to hear how desperate Clay sounded.

"George." He decided to answer anyway.

"Oh, that's cool! My cousin's name is George, too! He lives in Canada, though."

"Really? And here I thought no two people could ever have the same name. That's so wild." George couldn't decide if he was trying to mess with Clay or wanted to be left alone by making snarky remarks, but it proved to be entertaining nonetheless. Clay just laughed.

"You have a really good poker face." He said.

The other didn't provide a response.

"...So why don't you hang out with other people?" Clay started again after a couple silent minutes.

"Oh, am I required to?"

"No, it's just unusual. But you do you." Clay shrugged his shoulders.

"Well I'm not asking why you seem to want to talk to every single person ever; that's unusual too, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I just like learning about other people! There are so many interesting individuals that you can talk to; everyone has their own life story they went through, so why not learn about it? For example, what would happen if I started hanging out with you?"

George just looked up at Clay's forehead and gave a singular, slow blink. After entertaining the option of looking at the clingy guy in front of him, George ultimately decided to get back to his food.

"I... take that as you would have a negative response, then." Clay chuckled awkwardly.

"And why do you want to speak to me, Clay?"

"Um... you can call me Dream, you know?"

"I know that, Clay." George took another bite. "Why do you want to talk to me?"

"Closed-off people are the most interesting. They have the best stories because they see everything around them and absorb that information."

"You mean harder to crack, harder to mess with until they unravel themselves for you before you leave them? That seems really interesting; I agree."

"What? No! What makes you think that?"

"People do that. It's not surprising."

"Did people leave you in the past, George?"

George decided to ignore the question and act like he didn't hear it.

Clay just gave George a confused look. George avoided his gaze, because if he saw a sliver of pity in it, he wouldn't hesitate to give Clay a proper left hook. Preferably one to knock him out.

They sat in silence for quite some time before it was broken by, surprisingly, no one other than Clay.

"You know it's okay to ignore people; I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by anything. I just like talking to people, and I get not many feel the same way."

"I don't ignore people; I just don't walk up to them. They don't approach me and I'm more than fine with it. It's a good system." George shrugged as he finished off his food.

"But... You obviously do ignore people... if you block all attempts by them to talk to you."

"No?" George furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. His bubble helped him not talk to people. It's not the same as blocking all attempts to talk to them. If people really tried, they would probably be able to get to George. No one's ever tried enough.

Clay gave a small smile. "It's okay. You don't have to answer anything you don't want to. I'm not here to push your buttons, just took you out to get some food together."

"Not a date, though?" George raised an eyebrow.

"If you um... wanted it to be? I'm unlabeled; I'd be fine with dating anyone." Clay's small smile broke into a fuller one. "Who are you interested in?"

"I hardly see what my sexuality has to do with this, and I didn't ask for yours. I simply wanted to confirm we were on the same page."

"Oh... um... yeah. Same page." Clay gave a smile, though it was conflicted. "Are you homophobic or something?"

"Not what I said either. Are you going to take me home or do I have to walk? I'd like to get home before six in the afternoon."

"I'll drive you. I'll just pay for the meals and we'll go."

Clay went in to get a waitress to get the bill. George just picked up a napkin and played with it. He didn't like random people knowing he was gay. It's not that he had a problem with it; it just wasn't anyone's business who he liked or what pronouns he went by. It didn't matter much anyway, did it? Not like it made him any different.

George was slightly relieved by the fact that Clay was also LGBTQ; they had some common ground together. It made George not want to completely hate Clay. He was trying his hardest to talk to George after all, no matter how amusing his attempts were to the other.

Clay came out and took George to his car. George gave Clay the name of a neighborhood he lived close to, and they rode off in silence. Clay tried to make small talk, but George just shut it down by not responding.

"You sure you don't want me to drop you off at your house? We're already in your neighborhood."

"Why do you need to know my address?"

"I guess I don't... Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow?"

George gave a wave and walked off. It wasn't that long of a walk to where he actually lived, which was way better than walking home all the way from school.

He strolled over to his house and scoffed at the fact that his mother's car was home, meaning he'd have to talk to her too. George liked talking to his mom, yes, but not in the amounts she put into talking to him.

"George, is that you, darling?" He heard his mother's voice firsthand before he even had time to shut the front door. George saw his mom peek out of the kitchen and give him a wave. "Why are you late? Did you miss the bus again?"

"Yeah."

"What stopped you from calling me?"
"Needed alone time."

"Okay. I'll call you when dinner's ready."

"Not hungry."

"George." His mother stopped him. "You know you need to take your medicine after dinner. You want me to give you some fruit to nibble on instead?"

"Sure, thanks."

George was finally relieved to be left alone. He nestled into his bed and stared up at his bland, beige ceiling. Too much talking today. His throat felt sore.

Is there something wrong with me? He found himself wondering. There isn't. Everything's how it's always been. What does he think he's doing, telling me how to live my life? Clay doesn't even know me; what can he judge me on? He doesn't know me, and he never will. That's how it's always been. This situation shouldn't be any different.

-
I actually updated a day later can someone please just tell me how much I'm popping off. I'm not dropping this story, I swear.

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