After Fire - Dreamnotfound

Eleven|top-secret george knowledge

"Just don't do anything. If you do anything wrong, you'll get pulled over immediately."

"Why are they even there?" He spoke fast, stumbling over his words.

"I don't know. Probably just driving around. You're fine, just relax."

"Oh, my God. We're going to get arrested. How much jail time is driving without a license?"

"I don't know about America, but in the UK you don't get arrested. You just pay a fine."

"My mom's going to fucking kill me," Clay whispered more to himself than to George. He began to veer in off the lane as George grabbed the wheel and straightened the car out.

"Just calm down. Their sirens aren't even going off."

"What if they start? Then what?"

"Then," George began, his words running dry. One police run-in and it was game over. He didn't know what would happen to them. He knew nothing about the rules of the road in America let alone the punishments to breaking them. For all he knew, they would get arrested like Clay feared and they'd have to wait for his parents to pick them up. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"I don't want to cross that bridge at all."

"We won't. You're really overreacting."

"I'm not overreacting! I'm reacting just fine," Clay snapped. "If anything, you're underreacting. Maybe because if we get caught, you and your pretty privilege will get off just fine."

"Pretty privilege? Did you just call me pretty?" George asked, unsure whether to take it the implication as a compliment or an insult.

"Shut up," Clay said as a sudden bang caused him to jump out of his skin. "Did they shoot us?"

"I doubt it. I'm too pretty to get shot, apparently." He turned around to see the window in the back of the car intact. They slowed down, and Clay groaned.

"I think one of the tires died," He said with a tired sigh.

"Turn on your emergency lights," George said, clicking the button in between them with the red triangle on it.

"I know what to do, Shorty." He parked them at the side of the road and unbuckled his seatbelt. The police car drove past them as Clay turned off the engine and dropped his head into his shaking hands.

The cars drove past them with a fast roar. The sunset was over, and there were no streetlights over the highway. None of the stars were out yet. The brightest source of light they had was the crescent moon.

There was a sniffle to his right, and when he glanced over, Clay pushed open his car door.

"We're fine. I know how to fix a flat tire. Sapnap's dad taught me," He said with a low, careful voice.

"You okay?" Asked George, noticing the slight tremble in his voice.

"Yes, I'm fine. Stay in here while I take care of it." He took George's phone and slammed the door shut. George tapped against the car door, finding himself far too curious to stay put. He rounded the car and found Clay sitting down in front of the back right wheel with the flashlight on George's phone pointing straight up.

As the older boy sat down on the dewey grass, he took the phone and pointed it at Clay to find him slouched over with his head in his hands again.

"Leave me alone, George," He said.

"What's wrong with you?"

"A lot of things. I'll have this done. Give me a few minutes." He lifted his head, and George caught a few fleeting tears before they were quickly wiped away.