The first day of Junior year rolled around, the four of them schlepping their way to the school from the parking lot. Vincent had his arm around Ava's waist, his hand in her pocket. She carried his coffee, looking over to Faythe and Danté.
He had sunglasses on, a vacant expression on his face. Danté had changed over the last few months of vacation; he had become moody, and erratic; and, in Ava's eyes, lost his good sense of humor. Faythe was practically carrying him; he was leaning on her rather than hugging her back. She smiled weakly to Ava, catching her friend's gaze. She returned the gesture, feeling saddened by the sight.
The three of them sat through first hour, Danté looking slightly sweaty, and paying even less attention than usual. He didn't respond when the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Faythe touched his hand, helping him up, nearly carrying his bag for him. He hadn't improved any by lunch either; if anything he was worse. Zavier, Finn, and even Reno and Blake tried to bring him around, but it was no use. Danté only laughed a moment before coughing and getting distracted or going back to sleep.
Two months had gone by, Danté's mysterious condition not improving any. Faythe hardly accepted rides home anymore, resorting to Ava or the bus. They were under a tremendous strain, though no one could figure out what had caused it. Faythe claimed she didn't know, and Vincent couldn't get Danté to tell him. It wasn't until the week of the spring play and after-school drama practice that Ava became too concerned, or lost any hope for them.
"Mm, I love you, Vincent." She smiled, sitting on stage with the younger Way's head in her lap. They only had a few minutes: Mrs. Neilson was only going to be gone from the cafeteria for so long.
"Love you too, babe." He replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. She laughed as he poked at her side, trying not to fidget too much; she was almost as ticklish as Faythe. Vincent laughed, sighing as he was tapped on the head for it. "Where are Danté and Faythe?" he asked after a minute.
"Good question; I'll go find out." She resolved, kissing him quickly and getting up. Ava walked out to the front lobby, spying around a corner, trying to find the two. She got what she wished for: Faythe and Danté stood, arguing heatedly. Ava couldn't hear just what they were even fighting about, but it was clearly serious.
"Danté, it's not that big of a deal; I just want to make sure that you're-"
"Nagging is what you're doing. I'm so sick of hearing it; there are bigger problems in life than a goddamn drama performance."
"I know, I just… I love you, Danté." She whispered out, flinching at his words, the tears rolling down her face. Ava was tempted to go over, but she didn't feel that there was any inherent need to; they needed to work something out and she didn't want to be the oblivious friend.
"Aw, I'm sorry Buggle; I love you, too." He slurred out, trying to close the distance between them.
Faythe wrinkled her nose, pushing him away from her. "Danté, you stink. Please, don't- not right now."
"Come on, Faythe, don't be like that." He said, smirking with a certain lack of coordination.
"Danté, get off of me." she said, pushing him harder. With a surprise, Danté's hand met Faythe's face, making the whole world stop for what was almost an eternity. Silence fell around the three, Ava finally getting her bearings and rushing out to her best friend. Faythe didn't move; Faythe didn't speak; Faythe didn't breathe. Ava took her friend by the shoulders, ushering her away to the girls' bathroom.
"You're a monster, Danté." She scowled, eyes widening with curiosity at the small pool of blood under Danté's nose. It was hard to look away from him in that moment, as he stood, the same slightly vacant expression on his face, but the sorrow and anguish for what he'd done clear as anything screaming from the look in his hazel eyes. Ava kept walking, Faythe in shock at her side.