dnf oneshots

19. icy heart

Senior Year AU
George doesn't think he made a bad decision to shut everyone out. He focused more on his studies. He doesn't need friends. But, in his last year of high school, his old best friend has transferred to his school, and obviously doesn't seem to care that George is icy to everyone. As Dream keeps trying to win George over (whether it's as a friend or more, he doesn't care), George can feel his icy heart inevitably melting a bit more each day. [fluff]

CW// mentions of death, talk of mental illness (depression, anxiety, ADHD)

Every story needs a good backstory. Or, that's what my mom always says. She's a book editor for a big publisher, so I trust her.

This story has a backstory, too. Whether it's good or not is up to whoever reads this, I suppose. 

It started back in the second year of middle school. George had been my best friend for three years at that point. We were really close; always sitting together in class, sharing food at lunch, partnering up in classes, sleepovers, movies, game nights, the whole nine yards. But after the first year in middle, George was... different. Over the summer, we barely had any sleepovers and game nights, we barely went to the back woods to catch fireflies, we barely hung out. 

On the first day of seventh grade, I ran up to him, so happy to finally see him again. But he just brushed me off and walked away. I was so confused. 

In every class, I saved him a seat and waved him over. But each time, he'd look at me -- right at me!!!! -- and go sit elsewhere. So I was stuck with new people around me. 

That first day, I went home and asked my mom what to do. She smiled sadly and told me George had decided to try to focus more on school after he did downright awful the year before that.

"Because of me," I said, looking at the floor.

Mom assured me it wasn't because of me, but I knew it was. We hadn't paid attention. We'd goofed off -- instead choosing to play hangman, make paper airplanes and fortune tellers, or write our own dumb stories. Neither of us did well.

So he cut me out. He cut everyone out.

And then he moved schools. It was a middle school for bright kids. So he went there for the remainder of seven and eight. In grade nine, he went to a high school closer to his house, which was across the city.

I found new friends those dull years. I did the same things George and I did with them, which felt almost like I was betraying our friendship. But I did it anyways. 

I didn't tell anyone about what I had with George. I didn't tell anyone about what he did to me.

I also didn't tell anyone I wasn't straight. I didn't tell anyone I had fallen for George the year before he left.

I didn't tell anyone of the pain it had caused me. 

I didn't tell anyone any of this... besides my therapist. 

She was really nice. Her name was Niki, and her office always smelled like flowers. She had a slight accent, her hair was blonde and down to her shoulders, and usually had pink or green in it. She was really smiley and cheerful and always listened to me intently. She never interuppted me, and really helped me through my identity crisis. 

She's the only person besides Mom and my sister who knows about George. I told her everything. I excluded the crush thing until I got more comfortable with her. She said that losing someone so close to me, especially since I had developed romantic feelings for him, affected me in a poor way, and I was on the brink of depression. One more bad thing and I'd go.

Then my cat died. 

I had loved that cat. His name was Smokey, he was dark grey and white, and I loved him. He'd been in my life since before I was born, and I was devastated to lose him so soon after George had shut me out.