Chapter Text
The first time Keith sees the boy is a brief flash of eye contact through the classroom door before he’d averted his eyes and looked away. Keith glances around the room to see if anyone else had noticed the boy, but he seems to be the only one, so he dismisses it. Probably just someone from another grade going to the washroom or something.
The second time he sees the boy is thirty-two minutes later, when he knocks on the door. Miss Dindial opens the door, ushering him in, and then asks him why he’s come to visit.
“To come to class,” he says simply, hooking his thumbs on his backpack straps. Keith thinks that it’s strange that he still has it on him, since they were a couple hours into the day already. First recess has even passed.
“I have all my students already,” Miss Dindial responds with a furrowed brow. “I think there might have been a mix up.”
“This is the fourth grade class, right?” the boy clarifies, brown eyes wide and a little nervous. “I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t find it earlier. That’s why I’m late.”
Keith thinks back to the way the boy had walked past the classroom earlier. He tries to remember the boy’s expression, but his mind comes up blank.
“It might be best if you just stay here until I get this sorted with the office,” Miss Dindial decided. “Until then, you can grab a seat — oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t get your name!”
“I’m Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain. But you can call me Lance.”
Ha. L-A-N-C-E. Keith has never met someone who’s name is an acronym before.
Miss Dindal blinks. Then she smiles, eyebrow raising. “Clever. Now go on ahead and sit down, Lance. You can put your bag by your chair. Right now we’re discussing class rules for this year — you haven’t missed much. Now —”
Keith stops listening, going back to staring out the window. Every so often, he glances three rows over to where the boy — Lance —has chosen to sit, watching him diligently writing on a piece of paper. Keith wonders if he’s really taking notes. He doesn’t know any other fourth graders who take notes. He wonders if Lance is one of those brainy, know-it-all teacher’s pets who tattles all the time.
Something tells him he isn’t.
Lance looks up, catching Keith staring. Keith flushes and looks away. He chances another peek, several minutes later, only to find Lance still looking at him. He smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave, then goes back to writing. Keith wonders what that means.
When the lunch recess bell finally rings, he scrambles out like everyone else. He looks for Lance on the playground, but doesn’t see him anywhere. He doesn’t see the boy for the rest of the day, actually.
———
The third time he sees the boy is on the bus the next day.
Keith is the first person on the bus, then a group of eighth-graders who pat him on the head before they go sit at the back. After them, usually, is Ethan from sixth grade. He’s a butthead who always starts fights when no one’s looking and then gets Keith in trouble for it later. Keith hates him. But instead of turning left on Ethan’s street, today, the bus turns right, onto an unpaved road leading to the more rural areas. Keith’s never been down there before.
The bus goes down the road for ten minutes before stopping at an old, run-down house, paint peeling around the edges. It’s the new boy — Lance — who waits at the curb, nervously picking at the ratty sleeve of his shirt. He boards the bus with his head down, mumbling a thanks to the driver before glancing up to find a seat.
When he makes eye contact with Keith, his whole face lights up. He waves excitedly, moving forward, put he pauses suddenly before he sits down, suddenly shy and unsure.
“Um. Hello. I’m in your class, my name’s —”
The bus lurches forward, sending Lance tumbling, right on top of Keith, squishing him into the window.
“Oof,” Keith exhales, but doesn’t shove Lance off of him. He’s not sure why. That would be his usual move.
“Sorry! Dios, I’m so sorry!” Lance squeaks, scrambling up. He kneels on the seat next to Keith, but doesn’t go to a different seat. This pleases Keith, for some reason.
“‘S’okay,” he assures. “You’re basically a feather, anyway.”
Lance giggles, some of the nervousness leaving his posture. Keith thinks that he’d like to make it all go away.
“I’m Lance,” he says sticking out his hand.
“I know,” Keith replies, shaking it.
Lance laughs again, and Keith finds himself grinning.
“I know you know, I saw you smile when I introduced myself yesterday. You have a nice smile. I just introduced myself again because I want to know your name.”
Keith’s ears turn red. Oh.
“Keith,” he blurts out. He’s not sure if he’s more embarrassed about the smile comment or the fact that he forgot to introduce himself, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind.
“That’s a cool name. I’ve never heard it before. Keith.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the ‘ee’ sound, cutting the ‘th’ short so it almost sounds like a ‘t’. Keith likes the way he says it.
“I moved from Cuba earlier this year —“ that explains the accent — “so everything here is kind of strange. English is a very weird language. Why are so many of the words the same? I do not understand it.”
“You don’t seem to have much trouble with it,” Keith observes.
“That’s because I’m smart,” Lance says, but it’s more of a statement of fact. The sky is often blue, the ocean is salty, Lance-from-Cuba is smart. Keith thinks his confidence is admirable. He wonders if public school will crush it to death.
He hopes not.
“Plus, Cuban schools start in August and end in May, so we moved here in May and I had more months to learn it. I was lonely, though.” Lance frowns. Keith wonders what he can do to make him smile again.”
“Why were you lonely?” he asks hesitantly.
“I left all my friends in Cuba, and all the other kids were in school all day, so I haven’t had the chance to make any friends yet. Except for you, of course.” Lance’s face gets unsure again, and he looks at Keith shyly. “If that’s okay with you.”
Keith nods frantically. He’s never had a friend before, and he likes Lance. He’d like to be his friend.
“Great!” Lance chirps, smiling his sunny smile again. Keith can’t help but smile back — it’s almost like Lance’s smiles are contagious. “I’ve never had a friend with a mullet before! I like it, though. You look cool.”
The two of them chat for the rest of the ride — well, mostly Lance. He’s a bit of a motormouth, but Keith doesn’t mind. It means he doesn’t have to talk as much. And Ethan doesn’t bother him when he sees Keith’s not alone, so that’s a bonus.
———
The fourth time he sees Lance is the next day. Lance sits with him, again, and they talk until school. They hang out a recess, too. Keith notices that although Lance never runs out of things to say to him, he’s kinda shy around everyone else. Quiet. Gets stressed if too many people are talking to him, and the screaming that’s a constant on the playground makes him wince. They take to playing make-believe on the field a distance away from the playground — they’re currently playing space defenders.
The next two days are the weekend, so Keith doesn’t see Lance at all. He stays at the group home he’s currently staying in, reading quietly in the tree in the backyard until his foster mother calls him in for bedtime.
The fifth time he sees Lance is on Monday, and it’s not much different from Friday. Lance sits with him on the bus and talks his ear off until they get to school, and then they play together every recess. Lance even helps Keith during math, which he appreciates. He finds out Lance is very good with numbers. He has the multiplication table memorized up to fifteen, which Keith thinks is crazy, but Lance admits he can only do that because his dad makes him write them out every day after school.
The sixth time he sees Lance is the day after that, again, on the bus. This time, when Ethan boards after Lance, he doesn’t sneer at Keith and go to to the back with the other older kids. He seats in the seat directly behind them. Keith tenses immediately.
“What’s wrong?” Lance whispers.
“Nothing,” Keith replies tersely. He doesn’t know how to explain the situation to Lance, and besides, there’s not much Lance can do anyway.
Ethan, unfortunately, notices Keith’s tension, and laughs meanly. “Aw, Oliver Twist,” he mocks, “you didn’t think I forgot about you, didja? C’mon now, I’m not like your mommy. I won’t ditch ya. We have lots more time together, isn’t that right, Keith?”
Keith grits his teeth, pressing back the tears burning hotly at his eyes. He’s over the stupid Oliver Twist jokes – Ethan uses them so much they’re boring, now – but he’s embarrassed that he made them in front of Lance. In front of his new friend.
Through the blur of his watery eyes, Keith sees a small hand clench, feels Lance shift as he turns around the face the bully.
“Leave Keith alone,” he hisses.
“Ooooh, Keith!” Ethan laughs, “got your boyfriend protecting you now? Guess you really are a KoGAYne! Ha! Do your foster brothers know you’re a f—”
There’s the heavy thud noise of skin hitting skin, and the sickening sound of a bone crunching. Ethan screams, and the bus lurches to a stop. Keith whips around, eyes wide, only to find Lance glaring down at Ethan, knuckles split and red.
“My nose!” Ethan screams. “The little freak broke my nose!”
The bus driver storms down the aisle, demanding an explanation, and Ethan cries a made-up sob story about how he was just minding his business when the weirdo new kid came out of nowhere and decked him in the face ‘to show who’s boss around here’.
Keith snorts quietly. Yeah, right. Lance is no more a bully than fly to the moon — yesterday, he saw a worm dried up on the pavement and cried so hard Keith was worried he’d throw up. He’d insisted they have a funeral for it.
Regardless, the bus driver believes Ethan, and yanks Lance by the arm to the seat behind her. Keith stares after him with wide eyes, worried, but Lance shrugs and shoots him a wink.
Keith doesn’t see him for the rest of the school day, or the day after that.
———
The seventh time he sees Lance he is relieved. Lance strolls down the middle aisle of the bus, plopping down next to Keith. There are four Hello Kitty bandages on his left hand.
“What happened?” Keith whispers.
Lance grins. “I got suspended, and I’m grounded for two weeks, but that’s it.”
Keith stares at him, a little awed. “You got grounded? For me?”
“Of course!” Lance assures. “You’re my friend! I wasn’t gonna let that butthead say those mean things about you. You’re too cool for him, anyway.”
Keith stops counting after that.