Four|overpriced bathroom passes

                                    

                                          
November 3rd
Drista's game against St. Francis is tomorrow and I think she'll do well. Maybe it's the bias of having her as a little sister, but I think she's the best on the team even without my help. It's a shame I won't be there to see it play out. 
                          
The three siblings entered the school together, though Clay kept glancing back at the doors they had just entered through. George was planning on sticking with Drista until he found Bad and Skeppy when the group was approached by Quackity. 
                          
"George, there you are! Wanna hang out with us?" Quackity had asked, stopping the three before they could reach the quad. 
                          
"How's Sapnap doing?" Clay asked from George's left. Quackity glared at him. 
                          
"He's doing so much better without you." He grabbed George by the crook of his arm. "So, you coming?"
                          
George looked over to his host siblings, and Drista waved him off. 
                          
"I see my friends anyway. Have fun with those band nerds," She said. 
                          
"I can come, too," Clay said. 
                          
"Oh no you don't," Quackity interfered. "Look, Dream, Karl finally managed to get Sapnap somewhat emotionally stable, we don't need you waltzing over and ruining it." 
                          
Clay huffed. "Fine. Whatever. I don't care. Take the Bitch Boy. I don't need him anyways." He turned on his heel and walked up the stairs. George assumed he was going up to the library. Skeppy and Bad always hung out there reading books about Greek mythology. 
                          
George followed Quackity as he brought him to where he and the rest of their group usually spent their mornings before class—  the band room. George couldn't tell which one was the band kid or if all of them were. And even though he himself wasn't one, he did feel at home inside the classroom. 
                          
The room was far more spacious than the band room in George's old school. None of the chairs had been set up around the classroom yet, leaving the four of them to sit on the floor. Instrument cases lined one of the walls, and lockers lined the other one. At the front of the room was the platform the band director would typically be standing on, though their teacher was nowhere in sight. The whiteboard had a list of events, majority of which involving the marching band. 
                          
"You know, the brass players sit there," Quackity said, pointing at the carpet beneath George. 
                          
"So?"
                          
Quackity and Karl looked at eachother and stifled a laugh. Karl said, "Do you know anything about brass instruments, George?"
                          
George's mind blanked. All he knew was that they were brassy and loud. Karl giggled. 
                          
"You have to blow into the instrument to make sound, and obviously spit builds up and you have to let go." Karl pointed at where George sat. "That's where the trumpets sit."
                          
George grimaced. "That's disgusting."
                          
The two boys broke out laughing, leaning against one another as they did so. Sapnap watched them quietly, tracing the mark imprinted on his wrist. Even if he did find it funny, he didn't appear to be in the mood to laugh. George moved and sat down next to Sapnap, and the boy turned to him. 
                          
"How's Dream doing?" He whispered to him. 
                          
"He's...doing," George replied, not quite knowing the answer himself. Between that morning and the evening before, he didn't see the boy at all. The most activity to come out of his bedroom was the door opening to let his cat out as he shouted out to anybody in the kitchen to feed her. 
                          
Sapnap straightened up. "Is he okay?"
                          
"Ah, Sapnap, stop worrying about him. I'm sure he's fine," Quackity waved off.