Terror trio: back in action

All the best people are crazy

It was 10 minutes past 12 and Jazz was still in bed, whining about how annoying a head cold was. Minutes passed by and Billy walked into the room with a black bag, revealing a PB&J sandwich for him to eat.

"Thank you." Jazz took the sandwich out of his hand

"I made sure they cut the crusts off, I know how much you hate that." Billy squeezed his hand

"I told you to go to class, I'll be fine." Jazz rolled over on his side

"Clearly, you're lying. You've been like this since this morning. I'm worried about you." Billy sat down beside him

"You never take the time out for yourself, you're always too focused on everyone else's lives." Jazz took small bites of the sandwich

"We've been friends since the 4th grade, no one knows you better than me." Billy threw the covers around them before holding him in his arms

"Can I ask for a favor?" Jazz asked

"It better not be a stupid one. What is it?" Billy caved

"Can you paint my nails? Last week's coat already came off and I hate it because my nails look naked." Jazz pleaded, ignoring his friend laughing at his response

"What's with you and painting nails?" Billy asked, going through the upper drawer and pulling out pink, purple, and blue nail polish

"It was something I used to do with my mom. You know, back when our family wasn't falling apart. We would paint each other's hands and feet, but we had to walk on our heels so the polish wouldn't get messed up." Jazz giggled

"Sounds like a blast. I never had that type of bond with my mom, she was always too busy traveling the world. My dad, that's a different story. He would move mountains for me, spend as much time with me as possible. I haven't seen him in 3 years because my dumbass stepmother landed him in prison." Billy shook the bottle

"He still writes to you?" Jazz asked, sitting up in the bed

"Not nearly as much as he used to, that's what worries me." Billy slowly twisted the top off the nail polish

"Hey, I'm sure he's fine. You know how much he loves you, he's going to beat this case." Jazz comforted him

"I told my mom, but she didn't bat an eye. She told me that he deserved to rot in prison, that I'd be better off without him. Honestly, I don't think she gives a shit about me. That's why she's always booking gigs on different cruise ships. It's because she's ashamed of me, ashamed to have a son who's nothing like her. She doesn't even bother to pick up the phone when I call her." Billy hung his head 

"Is that why your dad took custody over you?" Jazz asked, wiping away the tear strolling down his cheek

"I don't want to keep talking about it. Shut up and give me your hand." Billy demanded, wiping his tear stained face

"Promise you'll be gentle!" Jazz hissed

"Stop being a baby, it's not a cute look." Billy smiled, gently holding onto his hand while he began painting his nails

Meanwhile, Nessa was in math class doodling in her notebook when sister Mary approached her desk, making it hard for her to finish her drawing.

"Can you get out of my way? You're blocking my light." Nessa complained

"Miss Sinclair, that is no way to talk to your teacher. Hand it over, you'll get it back at the end of class." Sister Mary held out her hand

"Are you a cold hearted bitch on a regular basis or were you born this way?" Nessa asked, getting a laugh out of some of the students