JFGogh (SFW) Series Finale

Part 6; The meaning of betrayal

Van Gogh clung carefully onto his bag, feeling like a body guard for the sack. He felt a surge of pride flow through him as he made his way down the halls. To him, he seemed ten feet tall and bullet proof. However, he really just looked like a tiny hermit skittering past crowds, hiding some sort of precious junk.
He finally got to his locker and smiled, he opened the bag and revealed a neatly folded sheet of thick paper. It was the project he and JFK had spent Tuesday afternoon working on.
He hugged the project and prepared his things for class. So far, things were going smoothly.

JFK sighed as he watched Cleo and Abe make out. A distinct feeling of disappointment washed over him. He knew it was bound to happen some day, but he never thought it'd happen with Abe. He had a burning hatred towards that guy ever since they've met. He'd sigh, but looking into the distance, he saw Van Gogh, who was cradling their project dearly. JFK smiled, remembering that it was he who helped the best art student in school on a project. Well, more so Gogh helping him, but still, it was them who created an amazing project together that Tuesday afternoon. The memory made him blush slightly.
He knew Cleo was only using him. He shook his head and stood up straight, strutting past the new couple and passed by the girls who giggles and smiled flirtatiously. He was still the dashing, popular, athlete the school praised.
As he passed, Cleo turned from Abe to watch jealously. She expected him to come running back to her as usual, somehow impressing her and putting on quite the fight against Abe.

JFK made his way towards Van Gogh. He leaned against the locker beside him.
"Hey err uh, Vincent! Last class of the uh, day. I uh, can't wait to err, present with you!" He smiled. Vin was a little startled, causing him to jump. But he was delighted to be greeted with Jack's goofy grin.
"Heh, yeah. Hey, uh, the dance is tomorrow night and..." he gulped. JFK looked down at him curiously.
"Well, I was wondering if maybe you-" he was suddenly cut off be Cleo, who walked right in the middle of the two. She stared up at JFK and stroked his chest before speaking.
"You know, Jack, the dance is tomorrow and after a lot of thinking, I decided we would go together. Abe has me questioning..." she acted sad, but in reality it was just another of her tricks to gain social points.
Van Gogh's face heated up, he cowered behind the egotistical girl and sighed.
JFK tried to look at Gogh, but Cleo did everything she could to block him. He sighed.
"I err uh..." he thought about it for a moment. He didn't want to look lame in front of his new friend.
"Alright then." He was disappointed he ended up with her again, but at least he didn't seem like a loser now.
Cleo patted him on the shoulder and walked off, Abe tearing up in the distance. Van Gogh felt his heart shatter on the inside. His face was on fire and he could feel himself beginning to tear up. He got a little dizzy. He couldn't bare to face JFK. Not after that. He really thought JFK was a different guy, that they could've had a chance... He knew he shouldn't have thought anything good would come from this. He should have never hung out with JFK. He wish they never met.
"So, err uh, what were you saying, Vinny?" Kennedy asked, hoping Gogh had noticed him getting a date.
Van Gogh stayed silent for a minute. He couldn't let JFK see him cry. He started towards the class as the bell rung.
"Let's just... Get this project over with and we can move on with our lives." He was angry, but more than anything in pain.
JFK followed behind, confused.
"Oh... Alright..."

***

After they finished presenting their project, they each went to their own seats. JFK wondering what he did wrong as Van hung his head low and made his way to his desk far from JFK, blocking his face with a book atop the desk. The presentation was awkward, but at least it was over and he could go home now to think things through.
Soon enough, class ended. JFK pushed through the passing students in search of Van Gogh. Maybe he was just nervous. He finally stopped him in the middle of the hall.
"Hey, err uh, Gogh! Wait up!" Vincent turned to him and sighed.
"That went uh, well. We should celebrate at the uh, diner! Ponce and Caesar and err uh, other people." JFK said anything to convince Vincent to go. In response Van shook his head quickly.
"Forget it." Van said before rushing away. JFK stood in silence, the crowds staring in confusion. He felt a sharp pain inside. What did he do wrong? He made his way to the men's washroom and glared at himself in the mirror.
"Look what you err, did! You klutz! You're always messing things up..." a tear rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away and buried his face in his hands, sinking into the corner of the empty, echoing bathroom. He had never felt this miserable and alone.

A.N;
POOF! The big plot twist. I tried spicing things up a little... anyways, get ready for some big things to happen. Love y'all. Thanks for reading!