Chapter Text
Dandy didn’t pick up the phone the first time Astro called.
It wasn’t on purpose. He was in the middle of scrubbing frosting off a mixing bowl in the bakery classroom, sleeves rolled up, music playing low from his earbuds. By the time he noticed the missed call, there was already a voicemail notification. He stared at it longer than necessary, thumb hovering, then told himself he’d listen later.
Later turned into several days.
Astro didn’t call again. He texted once—hey, we need to talk—and then nothing. No follow-up, no jokes, no sleepy voice notes recorded at 2 a.m. complaining about homework Astro definitely wasn’t going to do. When Dandy finally listened to the voicemail, he already knew what it would be about. He just hadn’t expected Astro to sound so calm.
“I think… I think I’m in love with Vee,” Astro said. No hesitation. Like he’d rehearsed it. “I didn’t plan it. I just realized it. I’m sorry.”
There was more after that. Something about still wanting to be friends. Something about not wanting things to be awkward. Dandy didn’t remember the rest. He replayed the first sentence twice, then locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket like it had burned him.
Monday came anyway.
High school didn’t pause just because your best friend decided you weren’t his person anymore.
The trio—their trio—was still written into the schedule like nothing had changed. Group presentations. Paired labs. Seating charts that assumed Astro, Vee, and Dandy were still inseparable. Teachers smiled when they saw the three of them together in the hallway, like it was a familiar picture they liked seeing.
Vee smiled too.
She always did.
“Morning,” she said brightly when Dandy reached their lockers. Astro was already there, leaning against the metal, hair still a mess like he’d rolled out of bed ten minutes ago. He looked relieved when he saw Dandy, like he’d been worried Dandy wouldn’t show up at all.
“Hey,” Astro said. “You okay?”
Dandy nodded. “Yeah.”
It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t falling apart. He just felt… off. Like he’d missed a step on the stairs and his body was still waiting for the impact.
Vee clapped her hands together. “Okay! About the bio project—Astro and I were thinking we could focus on the presentation slides, and Dandy, you could do the written part?”
Astro blinked. “Oh. Uh. Sure, if that works for you?”
It didn’t. But Dandy shrugged. “Yeah. Fine.”
It was the first time it happened. Not the last.
Astro still walked with him to class. Still sat next to him when there were enough chairs. Still texted memes and half-finished thoughts like nothing had changed. But whenever it came down to pairs—duos—Vee always had a plan.
“Oh, the teacher said only two people per station.”
“I already promised Astro I’d work with him.”
“Dandy’s really good solo, though.”
Astro never argued. Not because he didn’t care, but because he trusted Vee. She said things with such confidence, such certainty, that it didn’t occur to him that there might be something underneath.
Dandy noticed.
He noticed the way Vee’s hand lingered on Astro’s sleeve just long enough to look affectionate. The way she laughed a little too hard at jokes that weren’t funny. The way she never, ever followed through—no real dates, no actual vulnerability, just enough attention to keep Astro orbiting.
But when Dandy tried to step back in, Vee’s smile sharpened.
“Actually, Dandy, could you grab Shelly for this one?” she’d say. “We need him for the data stuff.”
Shelly never complained. She just adjusted her glasses and went along with it, polite as always. Dandy went with her once, twice, then stopped waiting to be invited at all.
By Wednesday, he was sitting with Dyle instead.
Dyle didn’t say much about it. He just shifted his bag over so Dandy could sit down, sliding a notebook between them to make room. They’d always been friendly, but not close. Dyle was quiet in a way that wasn’t shy, more like he just didn’t waste words unless they mattered.
“You wanna copy the notes later?” Dyle asked without looking up.
“Yeah,” Dandy said. “Thanks.”
That was it. No questions. No pity.
It was… nice.
They started trading comments during class, scribbled on the edges of worksheets. Dyle’s handwriting was small and neat. Dandy’s was messy, looping, full of arrows and side notes.
Vee just kicked Astro under the desk again, Dandy wrote once.
Dyle glanced over, then wrote back, She’s done that three times. He thinks it’s flirting.
Dandy snorted, covering it with a cough. It felt wrong to laugh, but also relieving.
They started texting that night. Homework questions at first. Then gossip.
Dyle had an eye for things. He noticed who talked to who, who stopped sitting together, who suddenly changed their playlists. Dandy filled in the social gaps—who dated, who broke up, who was pretending nothing happened.
By Thursday, they had a rhythm.
Dandy still talked to Shelly and Sprout, too. The four of them made a group chat after Sprout casually mentioned he was tired of “awkward trio energy.”
[Bad Decisions and Baked Goods]
Sprout: is it just me or is vee acting weird
Shelly: statistically, yes
Dandy: she’s been weird
Sprout: understatement
Cosmo: (added by Sprout)
Cosmo: hey :)
Sprout: ignore him he’s being annoying
Cosmo: rude >:0
Shelly: this is not relevant to the current discussion
Dandy smiled at his phone more than he expected.
Astro still wanted to be friends. He said it out loud one afternoon, catching up to Dandy after class. “I don’t want things to change between us,” he said, earnest as ever. “You’re still important to me.”
“I know,” Dandy said. And he did. Astro wasn’t lying. He just didn’t see the problem.
Vee waved from across the hall. “Astro! We’re gonna be late!”
Astro hesitated, then gave Dandy an apologetic look. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t.
That night, Dandy and Dyle stayed up way too late texting about nothing.
Dyle: do you ever feel like you’re just… extra
Dandy: like a bonus character no one asked for
Dyle: yeah
Dandy: welcome to my week
Dyle: for what it’s worth, you’re not extra
Dandy: bold claim
Dyle: i stand by it
Dandy stared at the screen, heart doing something stupid and inconvenient.
At school the next day, Vee announced another partner split. Astro didn’t even look at Dandy this time.
Dandy didn’t argue. He just picked up his things and went to sit with Dyle.
Something was changing. Slowly. Not dramatically. Just enough that it didn’t hurt quite as much as before.
He was still connected. Just not by the red thread he thought mattered.
And even if it wasn’t coming back to him—
He wasn’t alone.