Chapter Thirty-Five: Quiz

                                    

                                          
"I like it." He said from my bed. 
                          
"George you're not supposed to like it. It's a shit shirt." I quipped.
                          
"Yeah but your tits are out and I like looking at them so..."
                          
Whipping my head around I narrowed my eyes at him but he was grinning like an excited puppy. 
                          
"... Just kidding."
                          
Rolling my eyes, I tried to button up the shirt for the fifth time. 
                          
"Stupid boobs!" I yelled and gave up. "Right. I'm sorry but I'm not going."
                          
George got up and stood in front of me. He towered over me, and I couldn't help but smile at him. He looked so handsome it was unfair, all that dark hair and stubble. And his arms... in that shirt... that was meant to be unattractive... but failed...
                          
"I have another shirt you can borrow. It's from my weird eighties phase I had when I was fourteen." He said warmly, kissing my hands and rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. "It's important we go. That's what you told me."
                          
"That was before my tits couldn't fit into my clothes." I sighed, knowing it was more than just aesthetics. 
                          
Corey and his friends were going to be there and I didn't know if I could handle being around so many people. 
                          
He leaned down and kissed my cheek softly. Tingles feathered down my back like a soft caress and my mood instantly calmed. 
                          
"I'll go get you the shirt."
                          
Huffing, I sat down at my dressing table and put my hair up in a bun out of my face. I was trying to make progress and having my hair down would only tempt me to hide my face away. 
                          
"Here you go." George passed me a pile of gaudy crimson and purple fabric and I pulled it over my head. It didn't even smell like him. 
                          
"It works." I said and looked at myself in the mirror. At least this one fit. 
                          
I tucked the shirt into my black mom jeans and shrugged on a big fluffy grey jacket. 
                          
"Shall we go?" 
                          
"Yep." I said curtly, but took his hand to soften my anxious mood. "I'll drive."
                          
I attempted to give my siblings a warm goodbye as we proceeded to go downstairs. My mother was watching a film with Anna in the lounge whilst the twins studied in the kitchen. It was still so bizarre to have her around all the time and I really hated it, and if it weren't for Abi and Harry I would be primarily sleeping at George's house. 
                          
Since making up with my siblings, I'd decided that we should probably not sleep with one another every night like we'd been doing since Christmas. Speaking with Gemma about the issue had made me realise it was not a particularly healthy habit to form, though it was still healthier than some of my other coping mechanisms, but it would be a shame to develop yet another addiction. 
                          
Addiction to George. 
                          
Taking the driver's seat, I reversed out of the drive and drove hyper-focused all the way to the pub which, unfortunately, was closer than I wanted. Driving gave me head space and was an excellent way to procrastinate. 
                          
"Breathe Cass." George instructed from beside me. I hadn't realised how tense I was coming off. 
                          
"Sorry babe." I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. We'd arrived.
                          
"What did you just call me?"
                          
I snapped my eyes open and instantly my cheeks flooded with heat. 
                          
"Um."
                          
"Cassie."
                          
Biting my lip, I turned around to face him.