Kavi’s morning so far had been, for the most part, uninteresting. Save for some breakfast in the cafeteria and brief conversations with some people asking about his winter break, it’s mostly been himself since his sister abruptly left their intense conversation about what was happening at home. Not that he blamed her. In a moment of reflection, Kavi understood just how hard it was for his younger sister to cope with. It also didn’t help things that he was being unreasonably cruel with her and expecting too much from someone who was processing some terrible news after less than twelve hours of hearing it.

As he strolled through the halls of King’s, his train of thought was entirely focused on the very situation at home and he didn’t feel his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket. He felt it, of course, but he wasn’t in the frame of mind to check it, which meant whoever texted him would have to wait.

Kavi’s walking brought him temporarily to his locker and he put some of his things in his backpack inside it -- mainly folders he didn’t need until classes a couple of hours from now. Once he closed it and began to walk to his first class, since he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now, that plan came to a speeding halt as he heard a familiar voice call out to him. The voice was female and it carried, so how could he not turn around to greet his friend.

“April,” Kavi said, acknowledging her and her always-growing mini-foster inside her. He could have sworn she wasn’t this big before the break but those three weeks spent away from each other made it apparent that she wasn’t far from bringing that girl into this world (yeah, Kavi saw the story about the gender reveal). “What can I do for you?” He asked.

And in typical April Foster fashion, she sped right through her words, most of which Kavi wasn’t able to follow but once he adjusted to her speed, he got the gist of what she said. When she apologized about that kiss, Kavi couldn’t help but laugh. It was no secret that this kiss changed a lot of lives but mostly Kavi’s relationship life with Ariel. They had since made up, but it wasn’t public knowledge yet. The only people who knew were those closest to the two lovebirds.

“It’s okay. A lot of things happened that night--” Kavi’s response was abruptly cut short (what was up with that today?) as he both heard Ariel speak as she joined the two but his hand became locked with hers, making it abundantly clear that Ariel was, in a sense, marking her territory on the tree that was Kavi Salvador. “Yeah, we’re back together, so no harm done!” He smiled as he greeted his girlfriend with a kiss. “Hey babe, you look good!”

With his greeting complete, Kavi turned his attention to the box in question, which Ariel asked about. Kavi was kind of curious about that himself. “April was just about to tell me, I think,” Kavi said to Ariel.

Despite how much he wished she didn’t explain -- especially in the way April said it -- what she said made it clear to the young man what was in the box. Looking at the shape and how it seemed to appear gave Kavi ideas, but what April said about the kiss and damage in ‘more than one way’ was pretty obvious to him. “Oh you shouldn’t have!” Kavi smiled, though quickly retracted it from his face when he spotted Ariel’s glare/insecure hybrid expression. “I mean, this must have set you back a pretty penny.”

Oh, how he wanted to desperately accept it, but a few things were eating at him. Ariel’s feelings were what had been eating at him the most but also how he wouldn’t feel right accepting her gift. Again, Ariel’s feelings played a part in that.

Finding Max had turned out to be a lot easier than Ariana had anticipated. She'd half-expected to be running around the school campus like a headless chicken, going from place to place chasing after her breakfast worm. Thankfully a quick word with Evan Campbell had provided her with all the answers she needed. Apparently, her target had been at the lacrosse locker rooms all morning, doing something or the other with the equipment. Armed with this knowledge and that cocky confidence of hers, Ariana made a beeline to the male varsity locker rooms, spotting the young man just where Evan said he would be.

The brunette stared at Max for a few seconds, enjoying the view of his round posterior every time he bent down or squatted before announcing her presence. "Hey, handsome..." she called out to him, crossing her hands over her chest and leaning against the doorway.

Max, who had been busy putting away all of the equipment his father had paid for him to get the team, had almost jumped right out of his skin when Ariana had approached him from behind. He let out a little yelp and spin around. “Fucking hell, Ariana. What are you doing here?” He let out a little laugh as he tried to calm down after the initial shock.

After so many years playing games, she wasted no time digging straight into it this time around. "So I heard Kellie Anne's moved all the way back to California…" Ariana drawled, closing the distance between them until she was merely a few inches away. "That true?" she asked the blond male with a mischievous smirk, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

He looked down at her and put his hands on her hips as she closed in. Oh, we’re doing this again Max scoffed. “Yeah...and?”

The girl's expression hardened with the rather curt tone of his voice, and even with his hands on her hips, her whole body stiffened up as if ready for a dispute. "I was thinking that maybe this was the right time for us to finally take things up a notch. But with that nasty attitude, the only thing you'll be getting from me is the middle finger," she said haughtily, scoffing right back. If anyone was going to have an attitude, it was Ariana. There was no space for anyone else to do so.

Nothing much had changed it seemed. “Oh, is it time for that?” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. He tilted his head slightly as he continued to peer down at her, ignoring the fact that she was giving him her usual sassy attitude. He tightened the grip around her hips smirking now. “I can do a lot with a middle finger...” he whispered, tracing his own middle finger up Ariana’s arm and still not taking his eyes off hers.

"Really?" Ariana challenged his smirk mirrored on her own face as she pressed her body to his, playfully stroking his chest. "You know, Max, there's something I've realized about you: you're all talk. You always talk a big game about all the extraordinary things you would do to me when you had the chance, but you never take them. How do I know you're not just wasting my time again?" she asked him, shifting her mischievous hazel eyes up to him and looking anything but innocent.

Max raised his eyebrows “I talk a big game, huh?” he said, grabbing the brunette’s chin, still staring her down. Without letting her answer he lowered his face to hers planting his lips on hers. The kiss was passionate, almost like he was proving a point.

Now that's more like it.

There was nothing that Ariana found more fulfilling than to have her pray tangled up in her little web after a long game of cat and mouse. Of course, a small victory was always enjoyable, but the war hadn't been won yet-- not until she had him groaning her name between the sheets of his bed.

The girl was kissing him with the same level of passion, one hand on the back of his head and using the other one to pull their bodies closer, shifting their position so he was now pinning her against the lockers. Max shifted his hand from Ariana’s hip down her thigh before lifting it up to his waist and slipping it under her short skirt. If she really wanted this to happen he would challenge her to see how far she wanted to go at this moment.

It didn't take a genius to know she was on board with the way everything was unfolding. Their kiss hadn't faltered at any time- only grown in hunger instead- and every one of his advances had been received with approval. Both of her hands were on his head now, with her fingers tangling themselves up in his messy blond hair. She would occasionally tug and pull on it teasingly, smirking into their kiss with satisfaction every time she heard Max's groans in response.

He pulled away from their kiss and stared down at her intently before removing his blazer and hastily unbuttoning his white school shirt and tossing it aside. Ariana was quick to follow his example, of course. Her pesky, navy blue uniform blazer with the Kings Academy logo was unbuttoned and tossed, followed by the once-perfectly dry-cleaned white school blouse. He grabbed his giddy partner and carried her over to one of the benches and put her down on her back before continuing to kiss her. The pair were now only slightly obscured from the locker room door by some of the lockers- but the risk they were taking would be worth the reward.

When Sonny and Marisol had left his house, the drive was spent trying to gather themselves. After a brush with the grim reaper in a black and red pantsuit, Sonny welcomed the peace of the morning road of Crown Heights. Excitement fueled his fire and Marisol probably enjoyed the thrill of almost getting caught, but between his mother and Rye, Sonny needed some peace and quiet. The slowly paced traffic was just the downtime he needed.

As it would pick up after ten minutes, the rest of the trip was pretty smooth for the most part. Sonny’s driving skills definitely improved since the last time Marisol was beside him. The last time she was anywhere near the front seat of his truck, at least as far as he could remember, was right before winter break started. The Misfits had gone on their little cheat day down to Miami and decided to cruise all day. That was probably the moment before the big one on Christmas Sonny fondly remembered.

And that was probably the last time he and Marisol had that kind of day off when they were still just friends.

It still shook him to his core in just how much has changed. The dynamic between them was different, but also in a lot of ways, it has mostly stayed the same. Taking out the part about them having sex whenever they could, the way they were with each other was as though they were still just best friends. Because that’s what they were: Best friends. No amount of labels or intimate moments could change how close they were before the night of the Christmas party. No amount of gift-giving or close calls after nearly banging could ruin what was unmistakenly a friendship that came first and came before anything else in his life.

As Sonny parked his orange truck in the usual spot on the far right of the parking lot, which put them as close to the football field and bleachers (their go-to spot for quality best friend smoking time), Sonny took the key out of the ignition but didn’t move. He only sighed and leaned back into his seat. “Is it too late to ditch?” Sonny asked his girlfriend, holding her hand and squeezing it for comfort. “How difficult would it be to just drive out of here and, I don’t know, go to Disney World?” He laughed at his question but on some level, he was serious in his contemplation of ditching.

“Disney World?” Marisol repeated, letting out an amused laugh. “I never pegged you for a princess-loving, mouse-wearing little bitch,” she joked, shuffling in her seat so she could face Sonny and resting her head on the passenger seat header.

“Bitch please! I can fuck with Goofy all day. He’s my -- well, I can’t say what he is to me, but just know I will moo right along with that cow-dog!” Sonny proclaimed, both of them laughing hard until a nonspecific amount of time passed to where it was just awkward silence. “But seriously, is it too cowardly to just...not face Rye today?” He asked, somewhat sighing.

“Not really…" Mari admitted, letting out a sad sigh as her thumb gently grazed the back of Sonny's hand. "If Rye's reaction is the same one the others will have, then I'm not sure I want to face them either."

“I see what you’re doing,” Sonny stated, letting out his biggest sigh yet. His sudden realization about what he suspected Marisol was doing had worked (much to his annoyance).

It pained him because he was nearly at the point where skipping school was the only option, but if Rye didn’t see either of them at school, even if the hotheaded fool was happy, it would, in turn, make both he and Marisol look bad. Why couldn’t they show their faces? What happened to make them want to ditch? It was annoying and Sonny didn’t want to, but he saw no alternative.

“We have no choice, I suppose.” Sonny spoke after a few moments of silence. He squeezed her hand. “Let’s just do this -- together. And should the worst case happen, you can just take a swing at their car with your handy-dandy bat,” Sonny half-joked, “this time I’ll even record you and we can send it to Jackass!”

Marisol's loud laughter filled the inside of the truck. “You’re never going to let me live that down, won’t you?” she asked him with a grin. Knowing Sonny and the rest of their friends as she did, they probably wouldn’t-- unless she pulled an even bigger stunt. Not that she planned on it, of course. She’d been doing good on her meds and therapy, and things weren’t nearly as crazy as they were before. "As tempting as it is to become Lady Jackass, I wanna think I’ve grown past that. So don’t expect any more broken windshields or side mirrors from me.”

He chuckled, taking the keys out of the ignition, an act that was soon followed by a typical Sonny sigh. “I guess you have a point. We’re both past those immature moments that made us a pariah.” With that admission, he turned to look at her. “If you can promise me that neither of us will revert to our ugly selves at least until after we have lunch in exactly--” Sonny looked to his wristwatch “--four hours from now, then I won’t chicken out.”

"But you're already so fucking ugly. You don't have to revert back to anything," came Marisol's quick response to her boyfriend, managing a few seconds of a straight face before bursting out in laughter.

Sonny lightly punched her arm. “It’s what’s on the inside that matters, not the contrived conception of what societal beauty should be.”

"Okay, Archer, settle down with your philosophical preaching now," the girl said with a chuckle, raising her hands up in defeat. "As much as I love that you think that way, it defeats the purpose of the joke. You're supposed to laugh, remember?"

“Maybe he’s influencing me,” Sonny laughed, shrugging. He grabbed his bag from the backseat. “Let’s head into hell, I guess,” he spoke, dread in his voice and a reluctance in his delayed actions, but eventually, he opened the door taking one giant step out of the truck because, yes he’s not the tallest person, so the distance from the driver’s seat and ground wasn’t the same for someone who could reach their leg down without feeling the smack of their step in their joints.

If getting in and out of the behemoth of a truck was a challenge for Sonny, it was a whole damn project for Marisol. The shorter girl basically needed a stool to get on, and was only able to exit by taking a seat on the floor of the passenger's side of the vehicle and sliding down onto the pavement beneath her. Once safely in the ground, she grabbed her backpack, slung it over her shoulders, popped two pieces of gum that she'd grabbed from her container inside the truck before her exit inside her mouth and rushed to the driver's side.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked Sonny, raising an expectant eyebrow up at him and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He knew what she wanted. The slight pouting expression her lips made, the way her arms folded across her chest, the way those soul-piercing eyes waited with limited patience — yeah, Sonny knew what she wanted. Was he going to give in? Yes, of course, he was. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make her intentionally wait for her reward. Miss Little ‘Give Me What I Want Now’ was going to linger for a few, long moments as he purposely, which also was in a humorous way, moved his face closer to hers, laughing as he gave her multiple little rabbit kisses.

“I lo-lo-love you!” Sonny said with laughter as his lips were still locked with Marisol’s.

If you were to tell Marisol a year ago that she’d be acting like those imbecile, loved-up, sickly-sweet vanilla couples you saw all over the school, she would’ve laughed in your face and called bullshit. There was no way, she said, you would ever see her all over some guy, hugging and kissing and being affectionate and putting up a Nicholas Sparks movie performance for poor, unsuspecting folks. And with Sonny Drake, of all people? You might as well have been high on hard drugs. But alas, here she was a year later: happily wrapped up in her boyfriend’s arms with her own around him, looking and feeling very much madly in love with the boy who used to be her best friend.

“Fuck, I love you more!” she somehow managed to cry out in between giggles and kisses, her voice muffled by Sonny’s lips on hers.

He couldn’t stop smiling and laughing and sometimes both happened, resulting in an accidental lip-bite that was one notch above teasing. “You know I’ll keep doing this until one of us wins, so I’ll be the adult here and submit to your will, mistress!” He kissed her again.

“As it should be!” she sassily responded moments after pulling away from Sonny’s lips, giving him one last kiss before unwrapping her arms from him and holding his hand instead. “Now let’s get going before somebody else walks in on us.”

He smiled at her one last time before doing the same as his lips quickly pressed against hers. Then the two, with their hands together and squeezing lovingly, made their way across the senior building's entrance with minimal fear in their eyes. If any existed, it was the heart-pounding anxiety of casually putting themselves out there. But, as Marisol would say to anyone who had something negative to say: they could all suck it.

It was strange for Stella to be back at school after such a long winter break. She was still on Paris time, so her body wasn’t able to reset itself like she had hoped that she would be able to. Truth was, her flight had been delayed a few times and by the time she finally did arrive, it was so late (or early depending on how one looks at it), she couldn’t skip today, not when so many people -- and especially one person in particular -- was dying to see her. So, she would force herself to meet them, regardless of how much like death she felt.

As she made her way to her locker and checked her reflection in the mirror that hung on the inside of her locker door, the brunette couldn’t help but lament on her conversation with Chrissie. In addition to looking absolutely dreadful, the way things were left between them, the things left unsaid, and thoughts left to linger about, Stella felt a rare emotion crawling inside her body. Her gut tightened the minute she thought about Chrissie, the minute she revisualized Chrissie’s voice as she told her about Paris, how she seemed to disapprove of Carter, how she wanted Stella to betray her feelings for Carter, how she wanted Stella to have a night that the brunette knew would have been magical.

And all of that made her...It made her...It made Stella angry. How could Chrissie suggest such a thing? How could she take something Stella had been dying to confide to her about since setting foot on that plane and counting the hours (at least those she remained conscious during) so she could talk to her? Stella didn’t have a lot of close friends. She was friendly with the vast majority of people but her closest friends -- the ones that remained at King’s -- they were in so few numbers. Mac moved back to California and Georgie, though she was great, she wasn’t Chrissie.

“Fuck!” Stella’s internal ire boiled over to the point where she shouted and slammed her locker shut, alerting some nearby and she collected herself immediately. Holding her shoulderbag close to her, Stella decided to make a beeline for anywhere that wasn’t near the prying eyes of those around her.

Her display of unusual anger was surprising in a lot of ways but mainly for Stella herself. She didn’t know what to feel in all honesty. She’s always felt strongly one way or the other, but it’s always been with a positive outlook on life and to others, too. Some saw it as being too cheery, which she totally understood but she never let what people like Marisol Castillo would say about her. She always viewed that everyone deserved a hug or a friendly smile their way. And it wasn’t like she had changed overnight, but that part of her was being run out of town by the unexplainable bitterness she couldn’t shake off. It was like everything was telling her to scream as loud as she could, say whatever came to her mind, and throw caution into the wind about how it made her seem.

At some point, Stella soon found herself close at the entrance and she saw Carter talking to Chrissie. Immediately her mind went to Paranoid City and all hell broke loose internally. Eyes squinted and she tried to focus on trying to hear them, but with the hustle from the other students nearby and everyone chatting, she couldn’t hear a single thing either of them were saying.

“What could they be talking about? Why are they even talking in the first place?”

Stella wanted to move closer, she wanted to see if there was anything she could hear and she almost did, but then Chrissie turned around and started walking in Stella’s general direction. In a cowardly effort, she turned around so her cousin didn’t see her. Even when the coast was relatively clear, she was overcome by existing emotions and her paranoia-curiosity that she had to go up to Carter, which she did and she made an effort to wave to him, smiling as she had always done.

“Hey, Carter!” She hugged him. “I hope your break was good to you,” she said, easing her way to her real motives. “So, uh, I saw you talking with Chrissie just now. It looked pretty intense. I hope she didn’t say anything that got you too annoyed.”

Well, this just got awkward.

Between Ariel’s increased, if not justified, paranoia and maybe even some slight anger, Kavi couldn’t help but feel like that guy from the movie 127 Hours. The boulder crushing his arm was Ariel, the time limit until his demise was how long Kavi took to accept or deny the gift that April gave him, and the glimmer of escaping with his life came in the form of someone Kavi didn’t know. Even after Ariel said his name out loud, that did him nothing. But at least he had a name.

Meeting Ryland’s gaze, he didn’t know what to make of him in all honesty. He and Kavi stood on equal footing as far as their height and build were concerned, but Kavi couldn’t say that he was a fan of his attitude. Implying that Kavi wasn’t a good choice for Ariel got under his skin. Like, who the hell did this white bread bastard think he was?! If he had a problem with Kavi, maybe instead of using failed attempts at appearing friendly, he should speak his mind.

Going between all of his options, Kavi decided not to indulge Ryland’s childish behavior. He turned his attention to April, unintentionally shoving Ryland as he would much rather pay attention to her than give Ariel’s friend anymore of his attention. “In all fairness, I did deserve it. I’m just lucky that Ariel and I got the chance to really talk,” Kavi said, looking at Ariel, who was understandably watching April like the hawk he knew his girlfriend to be. “And, I’m sure that all is forgiven, right sweetie?” Kavi asked Ariel, hoping to get her attention.