《Right Next To You | ✓》0 . 1 4

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"Dance with me, Joseph." Betty Lee held a hand out, reaching for out for Joseph's. The two had arrived, and instantly found a seat beside the punch pit, where no child was brave enough to sip from, fearful for some sort of spiked liquid.

The two swayed in the swarm of buzzing preteens. Joseph held onto Betty Lee's clad waist, watching as a familiar figure made it's way into the gymnasium. But with a particularly small girl beside him.

His feet faltered, when Lark's eyes wandered over to him, carrying a look of surprise at how Joseph and Betty Lee had already occupied the dance floor.

Patty roughly shook Lark's arm, a tiny finger pointing over to where Joseph stood, holding a happy looking, Betty Lee. "Betty's here. Walk me over?"

Lark hesitated.

If he were to waltz over to Joseph and Betty, Patty in tow—who knew what Joseph would say. Maybe, Joseph would blame him for what happened at the cemetery.

But maybe he wanted to see Lark again? Just the last week had been tough. Sitting alone, eating alone, and living—alone. Lark was sure from afar, it looked pathetic and sad.

Once Patty had successfully dragged Lark over to the two, Joseph's steps halted.

Patty held a hand out to Betty Lee almost immediately, a smirk present. "I'm Patty Meyers, and you are . . ."

While Patty acted as though she had no recollection of who Betty Lee was, Betty seemed more than happy to introduce herself. "Betty Lee, and this right here," She smoothed down the front of Joseph's suit, smiling widely. "Is Joseph Ellington."

Lark's heart fell at the sight of Betty Lee running a hand down Joseph's chest. Why did it hurt so much to watch the two of them? Maybe, because Lark remembered how Joseph's lips felt on his nose, and his words—those perfect words.

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You're special to me.

Joseph watched as Betty and Patty spoke to one another, but in his peripheral, he could see Lark watching him with those eyes that made Joseph lean in for a moment at the cemetery.

Lark opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Bobby Stinger's voice bellowing from the top level of the gymnasium.

"Hey, Reyes!" Came a shout from the very top of the building, where most students who were in charge of lighting during school plays would stand. "Over here!"

When Lark looked up, his figure was enveloped in red liquid, laughs and chuckles surrounding him as Bobby's red paint was splattered atop him. All around him, there was laughter and taunts.

Lark felt as though he could cry, but soon, there was an arm grabbing his, and pulling at him—practically tugging him out of the gymnasium of Montgomery High School.

And only then, did things really fall apart.

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