3

                                    

                                          
TWs: panic/depression attack (george)
                          
Clay's POV
I woke up slowly, grabbing my phone from my bedside table and checking the time. It read what looked like 7am, but my vision cleared and it said 7:30.
Crap.
Literally going to be late for the first day of junior year. How pathetic. I groaned and kicked my covers off. I couldn't be bothered to wear anything fancy or presentable, so I just grabbed a black shirt, green hoodie, a random pair of jeans and a random pair of socks. I pulled them on and headed downstairs to hear my mom crying. Following the news I got literally yesterday, I couldn't deal with anything else right now. I grabbed my bag and shoved my books into it before putting my shoes on and leaving without a word. I headed straight for the bus station, and waited for the bus. I sat on a bench under the stop, grabbing my phone and plugging my earphones in. I decided to blast my favorite songs into my ears for a good ten minutes until a boy sat next to me. I looked at him, and he seemed familiar. Then I remembered. It was the boy I saw at the doctor's office. I'm not a very social person, so I didn't start talking to him. Instead, when the bus arrived, I flashed him a smile like I did yesterday before boarding. I paid the bus driver and sat in one of the back seats. The dark-haired boy also came and sat at the back next to me. Surprisingly, he was the one who started talking to me.
"H-Hello." he stuttered.
"Hey." I said.
"Are you the person who was a-also at the-the doctor's office?" he asked.
"Yes, that was me." I smiled.
"If you're okay with-with me asking, wh-why were you th-there?" he stuttered again.
"I got..diagnosed with cancer, and I'm likely to develop Tourette's syndrome." I sighed.
"Oh, I-I'm so sorry." the boy said.
"If you don't mind me asking, why were you also there- I mean, also, why were you- sorry, I'm not the best with words." I stammered.
"It-it's okay. I was diagnosed with-with depression and social-social anxiety." he said.
"Oh, I'm sorry, if you don't want me to talk to you anymore, I'm fine with that." I said, looking out the window, watching vehicles drive by.
"No, it's fine. You-You can keep talking if you want. I'm George, by the way.." he introduced himself to me, holding his hand out. I looked back at him, smiled, and shook his hand gently. "Nice to meet you, George, I'm Clay."
"Nice to meet you, Clay." George said.
"Hey, you said something without stuttering. Good job." I smiled at him. He laughed lightly, and put his headphones on, plugging them into his phone. His headphones looked nice. They were white with mushroom designs on them. I plugged my black earphones in and put them on before blasting Lovejoy into my ears. Lovejoy was, and is, my favourite band ever. Partly because the music is simply the best music ever created, but it's mostly because it supports one of my best friends, Wilbur. I've known Wilbur for years and years, and I always liked to listen to his guitar playing and his singing. He's a few years older than me, about three years older, but he's always felt like a brother to me, besides Nick. (or as he liked to be called, Sapnap.) But recently, things haven't been the best for him. His health started going downhill, and he got terribly injured and is still stuck in hospital as I speak. Luckily, some days he's able to send me updates through text, but unfortunately there are some days when he's not well enough to send me updates, and that triggers my anxiety. He's been getting better, though, and it doesn't worry me as much as it did when he first got hurt.
George looked over at my phone after a while. "What are you listening to?" he asked. I looked over and I said: "Lovejoy."
"I like that band too. Did you hear about their lead singer?" George said.
"Mhm. He's actually.. One of my best friends." I told him about when I used to listen to his guitar and singing as a kid, and George's face fell.
"I-I'm sorry, I had no idea he was your best friend. I-I shouldn't have brought that up.. I'm sorry." George began to cry, and I felt really bad.
"Hey, it's okay. You couldn't have known. Don't cry, everything's okay." I tried to calm him down, but I couldn't. It looked like a panic attack or a depression attack, and I wasn't sure how to help him.
"Hey, what calms you down from this?" I asked, getting worried.
"There-There's this s-stuffed bunny I-I have, b-but I don't h-have it w-with me!" George cried.
"Okay, is there anything else?"
"Well.. I do like to-to hug someone.."
"Are-Are you okay with me hugging you? Just to calm you down."
"O-Okay.."
I put my arms around him gently, and he leaned his head on my shoulder. He cried into my hoodie, and I hugged him tighter, but still gently. After a while, he calmed down, and fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. I smiled. I liked him falling asleep like this. It was cute.
We soon got to the college, and I woke him up gently.
"Hey, George. We're here." I whispered. He stirred, and sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
"College?" he asked.
"Yeah." I smiled, and George smiled back at me. I took out my earphones, and George took his headphones off. We both shoved our things in our bags, and got off the bus.
"Oh my god."
The college was huge, to say the least. Pupils flooded in and out of the massive double doors. 
This is a completely new year. New classes, new friends, new enemies.
And most of all, new drama.