"SO . . . EVERYTHING, UH, cool? With you, then?" Demetri and Dylan sat side by side outside of the dairy queen, with Demetri carefully trying to maneuver his ice-cream cone in circles to avoid the sticky substance from melting onto his fingers.

Dylan was much smarter than him since she'd made sure to get her chocolate ice-cream in a cup instead of the skinny sugar cone her friend had made the mistake of getting.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Her voice came out tired and unsure. "Listen, thanks. For um, doing this for me." She motioned to the ice-cream. "I really appreciate it."

"What are friends for? Sorry I couldn't get you anything else besides a boring ice-cream cone. Kyler stole my five yesterday so I had to dig around in the couch," Demetri explained the situation to his best friend. Dylan laughed a little bit. "Hey! Don't laugh! I broke open my piggy bank for you and I expect you to do the same one of these days!" He warned her.

"Aye-Aye captain, sir. Yes, sir!" She gave him a salute.

Dylan was discharged from the hospital just under two hours after she'd talked to Miguel, Aisha and Tory, just like Carmen Diaz had predicted. She'd gone home and had a restless night.

Aisha had told her she'd pour a smoothie on Hawk next time she saw him, one of the gross ones with vegetables in it that overrode the fruity taste and usually had that sickening shade of green to match. She gave her three different bags of candy from the vending machine too, and Dylan appreciated it.

Tory and Dylan had had an awkward conversation, to say the least. The girl apologized for not getting her anything, but Dylan had assured her that her injury didn't really deserve much anyways. She wasn't paralyzed, she just had some stitches. There wasn't a need for gifts — unless it was more vending machine candy.

The Nichols girl explained that Hawk hadn't really meant everything that he'd done, being too caught up in the game to notice what had happened. Dylan bit back responding to that, considering Tory had at least taken off work to and come to see her.

"Sorry I couldn't come yesterday. We were working on some stuff with Mr. LaRusso and he took us around to this other place to practice. I left my phone at his dojo," He told her sympathetically.

"I'm not mad, Dem. I couldn't be."

He nodded at her, glad she wasn't upset. He looked down at his shoes.

"So, um, has Eli said anything yet?" He emphasized the boy's real name, angrily. Dylan knew that if Demetri had it his way, he'd go find the boy and hit him as hard as he could, if he knew there wouldn't be consequences.

"No. No, I don't think he will. And honestly, the bruises are all his fault," She pointed to her black eye and the painful yellow and purple spots on her arms and legs, "But the stitches really aren't. He stole it, and that's awful, but at least he didn't mean to put me in the hospital."

"I'm surprised, Dyl. Usually you're the one shitting on Eli these days. What's changed?"

"Still nothing. I couldn't be bothered to be close with him anymore. Not after what he did to you and me, but I'm sick of all the hate." She began to explain to him everything she was feeling. Demetri was her best friend and there was nothing that could change that, even if they didn't see each other as much anymore. Even if it was a duo and not a group of three. "I don't want to force people not to be friends with him, but I do want to set boundaries. You feel?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I get that," He nodded. "You've always been better at that than I have. We're always gonna be friends, right? Like, Eli's not gonna ruin everything? Cobra Kai isn't gonna ruin everything?" Demetri looked scared for the future of them, and everything else. Dylan hated to see that.

"'Course not. We just can't let them."

"You're not gonna replace me with Miguel . . . right?" He questioned hesitantly. She looked over at him, surprised he would even think that.

"Where is this coming from?"

"He was the one that helped you, you know? I just wish that I could have been there instead of practicing karate because of some stupid violence. Instead of making up for it with cheap ice-cream," He told her sadly. Dylan pulled him in for a hug.

"I'm friends with Miguel now, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna be your best friend. You're mine too, okay?"

He finally smiled.

"So, it was that medal that did all that damage?"

"Yeah. At least it's back where it belongs now," She said, referencing the fact that Demetri and Sam had gotten it back to the LaRusso's. "Good thing Miguel cleaned my blood off of it before he gave it back to Robby last night." She shivered.

Demetri froze, carefully looking at her until she got worried.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Sam and I found it in the grass outside the dojo this morning, Dylan. Miguel didn't drop it off," He explained slowly. She looked back at him, confused.

"No . . . Miguel said he gave it to Robby. He sent me a quick text about it on the way back from the LaRusso's dojo. I think that's where, at least." She shook her head at him. "Said he got into some stupid fight with Robby. Dora the explorer wanted to bite his head off. Miguel just said he didn't want a fight, handed it over and told him to tell Sam." She shrugged like it was nothing.

"Well if that's true then I'm really offended that Robby watched everyone cheer for me when I found it even though he was the one that put it there in the first place," He sulked. "All because of this idiotic rivalry and Samatha LaRusso's affection, huh?"

"Guess so. I hate love triangles," She gritted out the words while rolling her eyes. "Or . . . squares, I guess. 'Cause of Miguel and Tory."

"Maybe you should make it a circle then," He wiggled his eyebrows like an idiot. She shoved him away. "Make things more interesting, right? Am I right?" He dragged out the syllables.

"You're the most wrong you've ever been. If this was jeopardy you have the least amount of points, let me tell you."

       "YOU'RE PUTTING HIM of all people on a dating app?" Dylan munched on a bag of doritos, crunching down on them even louder when Johnny looked at her in annoyance.

"Why wouldn't he? I'm a chick magnetic, kid," Johnny defended himself proudly.

"Sure you are. I'm sure those pictures of you covered in baby oil and tank tops that show a serious amount of nipple really got them going," She replied sarcastically.

"They did, smart-ass," He flicked his bottle cap at her, hitting her in the nose.

"Ow!"

"Okay. The app is downloaded." Miguel sat back down on the couch. "What type of women are you looking to meet?"

Johnny looked at him like he should already know the answer.

"Super hot babes. Dumb Question."

"Blind women, clearly," Dylan said, walking away from them and over to the fridge, sighing in irritation. "Do you only have beer? Can't you get root beer or anything of value?"

"Stop messing around in there. And of course I don't have that, I'm not a girl who can't handle liquor," He rolled his eyes.

"Okay. What are your likes? And don't butt into this anymore Dylan," He warned the girl who was pouring herself a class of water.

"My likes? What am I supposed to say? Long walks on the beach? I like muscle cars, martial arts, and Iron Eagle. And Iron Eagle II." He pointed, making sure Miguel was going to write that last part down. "Why aren't you texting this down? Computer dating's your idea."

"Maybe because," Dylan pretending to think. "He's not a complete and total idiot? You have to actually give good answers to this. Serious ones."

"Exactly. You need to take this seriously," Miguel repeated. Johnny looked between them.

"It used to be simple. Find a chick at a bar, bump into her hard, but not too hard," Johnny stated to explain the ways of the eighties as Miguel scrunched his face. "Then you buy her a beer."

"Yeah, no."

"Tried and true Diaz, Oakes." His head tilted to the side. "That's how the cavemen did it."

"The cavemen also lived thousands of years ago and had no manners and barely a sufficient way of communicating, but wow, that's just excellent," She remarked bemusedly. Miguel smirked.

"Cavemen. That's another like." He ignored Dylan. "You know, like the ones in those insurance commercials."

"You should just put down the Flintstones and just call it a day," Dylan joked dryly, not really meaning it.

Johnny's eyes lit up.

"Yup!" He snapped his fingers. "That's the one. Send it."

"Look, I think I can fill the rest of this out on my own. "What about clothes? What are you wearing?" Miguel started drilling his Sensei now.

"You gonna teach me about fashion now?"

"You need the help. Literally all of the help you can get. I've seen you go dumpster diving for your shirts," She pointed out.

"Yeah, I really might have to," Miguel said seriously.

Johnny sighed.

"Like I haven't seen you go fishing in those same dumpsters for cd players and tape decks. It's called being resourceful and you know it," Johnny leaned back in the couch, crossing his arms like he'd won a battle when Dylan's jaw dropped open.

"Yeah but at least she doesn't use clothes that look like they haven't been washed since the eighties. Seriously, I think if you throw that in the machine it might just fall apart," Miguel informed sassily.

He stood up from the couch, instead going over to Johnny's closet and looking through it — grimacing at most of what he was finding.

"So I was thinking a buttoned-up shirt and some distressed jeans. Got any?" Miguel tried unsucessful to get Johnny's attention, by which time Dylan had already strolled over and began to nitpick his idea.

"Don't bother. You'll look like a background character in an SNL sketch. I'd keep looking," She said sympathetically, with a pat on the shoulder. He sighed.

"I have old jeans, if that's what you're saying—Hey! there's a chick on my app!" Johnny cut himself off to start talking excitedly.

"Alright, well, just swipe right if you like her, and we'll set up a bunch of dates," Miguel said absentmindedly.

"Hopefully for their sake he swipes left," She whispered in his ear, making him roll his eyes.

"Okay, he's not that bad . . . " he trailed off. Johnny kept talking for a little bit, but neither kids were paying attention anymore. Miguel's eyes lit up as he pulled a red jacket out of the closet. Even Dylan thought it looked cool. Flashy. "Hey, can I borrow this jacket?"

"Huh? Yeah, whatever," Johnny answered without even really looking up from the phone.

"You're drooling, Lawrence," Dylan said to the man practically staring at his phone with googly eyes.

"Whatever."

Miguel turned to Dylan, a question clearly on the tip of his tongue but unsure of how he wanted to ask it.

"You have a question for me, I can tell. Just spit it out," She deadpanned.

"Are you going to the costume party . . . thing? At the roller rink?" He questioned her curiously. She shook her head quickly. "Why not? You never really go to stuff. You should. It seems like fun."

"Even if I wanted to, who would I go with? Demetri's pretty keen on finishing a level of his video game and then holding a party for one once he does," She concluded naturally.

Dylan hadn't really thought about going. She couldn't remember if Aisha was going or not, and it was a bit too late to ask to tag along. Demetri was busy, and Miguel and Tory were already together.

"You could come with me and Tory," He noted casually. Her eyebrows rose, surprised he would even bring it up.

"Wouldn't Tory be mad about that?"

"Nah. We're all friends, I think she'd be cool with it," He said earnestly. Dylan knew that this definitely wasn't something he'd talked about with his girlfriend, but she appreciated the effort anyways.

"I'd literally be third-wheeling as you guys canoodled."

"No, Tory has to work there anyways. She'll get off for a little bit I think but like, she'll still be busy part of the time. It wouldn't be that awkward," He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Dylan thought about it. Shit would probably go down, especially given the fact that Sam and Robby would most likely be there, but even Dylan had to get out and do things sometimes. And she wasn't going to pass up the offer.

"Sure."

"Nice!"

"But, um, how are we getting there?" She asked him. Miguel paused, thinking about it. "You can't be serious. You didn't think of this? What were you gonna do with Tory? Have her pick you up?"

"Well . . . "

authors note —

the roller rink shenanigans is literally next chapter. I cant wait. And then we're almost done with this season! I cant believe it's only been like two weeks of me writing this.