"What's your drink, little dude?" Larry asked Violet as the two made their way to algebra together.

Violet frowned. "My drink?"

"Yeah, your drink. You know, like, alcohol."

The question wasn't terribly surprising coming from Larry. Although, the teen wasn't sure why he'd ask her such a question. It wasn't like they could get into any bars or legally purchase alcohol of their own.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well," he sighed, "I may have buttered up those college kids on your floor back at the apartments. They agreed to supply the booze for my Halloween party."

Ah, yes, Larry's Halloween party. He'd invited her over text several days prior. Liquor, weed, and any chip flavor one could imagine was promised to her in the invitation. The only rule at this party was that a costume was required. As Larry worded it, "Anyone not wearing a costume will be forcefully removed from the property." That being said, Violet had been brainstorming costume ideas in her spare time. So far, she had nothing.

"I don't drink. Just get me some orange juice or something," she said.

Her long-haired friend let out a laugh. "Orange juice? Come on!"

"Fruit punch or lemonade will also suffice. But no dairy, please, it hurts my stomach."

"You're hilarious dude."

The pair entered their algebra classroom and headed toward the back corner, where they agreed to sit beside each other for the rest of the term. Violet, however, was stopped by their teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

Mrs. Packerton was an elderly woman who was as friendly of a teacher as she could be. Her hair was always poorly braided over her shoulder and seemed to get messier by the day. It was almost as though she never brushed or washed it. That wasn't all that gave her the impression that her teacher didn't bathe, though. She also smelled horribly of some unidentifiable odor.

"Violet, dear," she began as the young girl stopped in front of her desk, "I've been reviewing your grades in my class."

Violet's heart stopped. Had she been performing poorly? She was sure she'd been acing this class based on the marks she recieved on homework assignments and tests. Was she missing something? "Am I doing okay?" She inquired.

"Oh yes, my dear, you're doing wonderfully. In fact, that's what I wanted to speak with you about."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"I feel that you aren't being challenged in this class, Violet. Your lowest test score was a 99%. I'm so very proud of you!"

The teen blushed. "Thank you, Mrs. Packerton. I-I do my best."

"How would you like to be moved to my advanced algebra class? I have a wonderful group of students who I'm sure you'd work perfectly with."

"R-Really? But isn't that class for juniors and seniors?"

"I'm confident that you have what it takes. I've spoken to the principal already and have gotten you approved for the change. That is, if you're willing to try it."

Violet's mind shifted back to Larry. She always enjoyed quietly goofing off with him during class. Her notebook was full of tic-tac-toe sketches and games of Hangman. A few pages were even dedicated to drawings that Larry helped her make. Part of her wanted to stay just for those moments with him. After all, it wasn't like either of them could simply find someone else to mess around with. For Violet and Larry, this was bonding time.

"Could I get back to you on this, Mrs. Packerton? I'd have to discuss it with my parents and such."

"Of course, dear."

She made her way to her seat, which Larry had already scooted closer to his, as he always did. This decision was certainly going to be difficult. While Violet deeply valued her academic success, she also the time she got to spend with each of her friends. Algebra was for Larry, organic chemistry was for Todd, english was for Ash, and lunch was for everyone. She and Sal spent enough time together at home to not need much bonding time at school.

"What'd she want?" Larry questioned, kicking his feet up onto his desk.

"She wants me to move into her advanced algebra class," Violet confessed.

"You gonna do it?"

"I don't know."

The bell rang. A few more students scurried to their seats before Mrs. Packerton began her lesson. Larry frowned at his friend as a conflicted expression spread across her face. She began bouncing her knee and tapping her pencil against her notebook.

"I'm pretty sure Sal's in that class, dude. You don't gotta be nervous about it," he assured her in a low whisper.

"It's not about that."

"Then what's it about?"

"Well..." Violet trailed off for a moment. "I don't know. I guess I'd just miss drawing with you and stuff."

A small smile crept onto Larry's face. "So you'd miss me? How touching."

"It's not like we have other classes together or we hang out a lot at home. So this was kind of our time."

"Tell you what," he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Tell Packerton you'll do it. We'll come up with a new time to hang. Now gimme your notebook I gotta word you'll never guess in Hangman."

> > >

Violet ended up accepting Mrs. Packerton's offer to join the advanced algebra class, much to her friends' delight. To celebrate, they decided to stop at a local diner on their way home. Well, with the exception of Chug and Maple, who weren't feeling up to diner food.

"So, about the party," Ash began while scanning the menu, "we need a plan for costumes. Are we correlating?"

"I'm at a loss on that one," Violet replied.

"I'm not sure how we could correlate with a group of 5," Todd pondered. "Perhaps we should all pick our own costumes this year."

Sal nodded. "That might be best."

Just then, the waitress stopped at their table and asked for their drink orders. As always, Violet ordered a pink lemonade. Ash ordered a water, Larry ordered a chocolate milkshake, Sal ordered a rootbeer, and Todd ordered a water (which earned him some taunting from Larry).

"What if we have a costume contest?" Ash suggested. "Everyone votes at the end of the night and we'll see who wins."

A costume contest? Violet hadn't participated in one of these since elementary school. Even then, the competition was intense. She was sure that her costume beat everyone else's by a long run but still placed 3rd. Stupid Timmy Larson and his astronaut suit. So what if it glowed in the dark? There were, like, 12 other astronauts in the auditorium that day. But was there a single monarch butterfly with sparkly wings and light-up antennae? No there was not. Violet was going to have to come up with something MUCH better than a butterfly costume if she wanted to even place in the top 3 this year.

"That's perfect, Ash!" Larry praised.

"Come on, guys, I'm not even a tiny bit creative," Sal whined. "Can we do teams or something?"

"No teams, but you can seek outside help."

"How about partners?"

"No, dammit. We do this the right way or not at all."

"Well, we should at least find someone to count the ballots to avoid bias," Violet interjected, squinting at each of her friends.

Ash nodded. "Violet's right. We'll have to find someone who isn't competing so nobody gives themselves extra votes."

"Like who?" Sal inquired.

"I've got someone in mind," Todd said. "Leave that part to me."