"I'm not going with a corpse," Heathcliff returns, visibly wilting at his friends' refusal to at least agree to go to the dance solo. He leans back and presses his hands palm-down against the ground behind him. He's beginning to think that this conversation was a mistake. A big one, maybe. Especially when Ira starts turning the questions his way.

Slowly, he shrugs. "I mean. Yeah. It'd be cool. But no point in going with someone if you can't go with the right someone. Right?" He'd thought that, maybe, they'd all been in the same boat. But after Cash and Ira's responses, that idea seems...pretty stupid.