"Is this a good idea?" Bomby taps his fingers together, looking down at the shorter Naily striding beside him.

  "Of course!" Naily's eyes flick up to meet Bomby's, "Grassy is green, right? And I'm pretty sure he's around Gelatin's age. So it all works out!"

  "But we're on different teams!"

  Naily runs up to Grassy, who stands next to his teammates. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure I'll nail it! Hey, Grassy!"

  Grassy turns and waves, wiggling his blades. "I'm Grassy!"

  Bomby catches up with Naily as she speaks. "You wanna hang out later? I think we can really nail it as friends!"

  This catches Golf Ball's attention. She whips around and steps in front of Grassy. "No thanks. We aren't interested in conversing with members of other teams."

  "But Grassy wants to make friends!"

  "Maybe lighten it up a bit, Golf Ball?" Basketball chimes in to their defense, "I know you're upset about Blocky leaving, but-"

  "Who said I was upset!?" Golf Ball spits. Naily and Bomby watch with wide eyes at the exchange. "Him leaving only increased my chances of winning! There's nothing to be upset about."

  Basketball and Tennis Ball exchange doubtful glances, but don't try to refute her claims. "Okay? But at least let Grassy talk with other people?"

  "Grassy wants the freedom to make his own choices."

  "Absolutely no-"

  "Golf Ball, you're being irrational." Tennis Ball flinches under the glare Golf Ball shoots at him. "Think it over for a little bit! I think Grassy should be able to make friends outside of the team."

  "Yeah!" Robot Flower pipes up, "stop thinking that you're the boss of us!"

  "But I am the boss of you! I'm your leader!"

  Naily backs away as they argue, suddenly feeling extremely out of place. "I think we'll just go...talk to you later?"

  Grassy nods, giving them a thumbs up. Naily smiles, and she and Bomby slink away unnoticed. Her smile drops once they're far enough.

  "Well that was a bust!" she whines. "Golf Ball is so lame!"

  "I told you," Bomby shrugs. Naily pouts, huffing.

  "Whatever. Let's go talk to Cake next, I'm sure his team is a lot less uptight."

  Bomby wants to speak up, but the words catch in his throat. He opens his mouth and says nothing, watching as Naily powerwalks farther and farther away from him. A feeling he can't begin to describe gathers in his chest. Dread? Despair? All he knows is that it feels incredibly lonely. 

  Naily's just been strange. Aloof. More zoned out than usual. She acts like herself, nail puns and all, but something about it seems off. She's more forceful and aggressive. She snaps easily. And she's always been a bit on the offensive, but that's only in competitions. Never to her friends.

  Never to Bomby.

  The memory replays in his head again. Naily looking down at the grass, an empty look in her eyes and a frown on her face. Bomby asks her what's wrong and she explodes at him. She yells at him to mind his own business and to leave her alone. He's never felt so small in his entire life. The cake he has lays ruined in the grass, pink frosting splattered over the ground. She stalks away.

  Betrayed isn't exactly the right word to describe how Bomby felt. He wasn't really sure himself. It was fear. Hurt. Crushing sadness. Isolation. He's always been the sensitive type, and he hates how one bad experience caused a seed of distrust to grow inside him, for Naily, of all people. His best friend.

  She apologized a few hours later. Of course, Bomby forgave her; she was just having a bad day. But the feeling, the detachment and fear, remained. It remained when Naily got more reckless with her shenanigans. It remained when Barf Bag and Donut confronted her about her dangerous endeavors, and she exploded at them the way she exploded at Bomby. It remained when Naily decided she wanted to look for new friends.

  There was just something unnatural about it. Naily was unwaveringly persistent when Bomby asked what she was doing, and he only came along because he wanted to keep an eye on her. She was way too forceful, like it was something she desperately needed. Especially considering her recent state of mind, Bomby wonders if he should've stopped her first.

  "Hey, what are you doing all the way back there? Come on!"

  Bomby hadn't realized he slowed down to a snail's pace. He jogs back to Naily, sharp-faced and tapping her foot.

  "I can't find Cake anywhere. We should probably look for someone else."

  Bomby doesn't consider himself a confrontational person. For a bomb, he's pretty timid, usually waiting for something around him to happen. Donut had pulled him aside a few days ago, asking him, 'can you talk to Naily for me? She won't listen to me or Barf Bag.' And honestly, Bomby can't believe he didn't think of it earlier.

  'I think she's lonely. She probably misses Gelatin and is too proud to admit it, or maybe she doesn't want to. I don't know, but can you please talk to her before she does something too reckless? Barfy and I are really worried, and I'm sure you are too.'

  Standing in front of Naily now, Bomby wants to speak up, wants to ask Naily what's wrong and to just help her. But the words get stuck every time. He doesn't want to get yelled at again. As cowardly as it is, he's hanging on to the hope that the problem will resolve itself.

  But he probably couldn't live with himself if he doesn't ask. He doesn't want to see her fall apart like this.

  "Naily," he forces out.

  "What?"

  "Is this about Gelatin?"

  He could've said it any other way and it would be a million times better. But it's direct, at the very least, and Naily freezes. She bites her lip and stands straight, trying to be taller. Narrowing her eyes, she squares off against Bomby, squishing her lips shut and holding her head high. Heavy silence weighs on the both of them, every second bogged down with tension.

  The façade falls apart. Naily sniffs and tears drip from her eyes. She chokes back a sob and crumples to the ground, and Bomby dashes to hug her.

  "I miss him," she blubbers, "I just really miss him..." She buries her face into Bomby's arms and sobs, hiccuping and sniffling and all. Bomby doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say anyways, but he lets Naily cry out all of her pent up tears.

  Naily hiccups. "I've been a real jerk, haven't I..."

  "It's okay," Bomby soothes her, patting her back, "we all miss him."

  Naily whimpers and nods, and says nothing else.