THREE: The Other Side of Paradise

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Tedious.

Being with Nyma and Rolo, who reeked of weed the entire day, was enough of a problem – add the occasionally-stinging wound and heartache from the previous day, Lance believed this was some twisted version of human-hell. If it wasn't for Shay, the friend of his dreams, he probably would have lost his temper in first period.

Rolo's tattooed arm was suddenly wrapped around Lance's neck, his free hand jokingly messing up a bit of his hair. "Lance, Lance, my man... let's get fucking wasted tonight. You could use some relief."

If he had enough energy to, Lance would have scoffed in response, but Shay already beat him to it. "We're not going to a party on a Wednesday, unless you actually want all of us to go to jail? Save your breath." A sigh followed her rejection, while she continued to jab Rolo's forearm to let go of Lance. "If anything, I have drama practice after school until dinner time, and my brother will be extra pissed if I miss curry night again. He's so problematic..." The two siblings giggled in understanding at her complaint, and the group made it outside to the bus ramp.

Lance gave them a wave goodbye, deciding that it would be a good day to ride the bus home rather than get lost fifty times from walking. At the front of the bus were the kids who were hardcore anime and Harry Potter fans, then the AP kids, the sketchy students that nobody really saw, and lastly: the loners. There was luckily a free spot open, and before anybody else entered, he plopped himself down.

Some days were just meant for people to be shaken down, and Lance figured that today would be one of those times.

Florida's leaves were still mostly viridescent amid October's coldest breezes, and there was comfort to be sought out of with the minimum change. The stagnant weather was a barrier that wouldn't be broken, and that was somewhat calming.

He lost track of time while ogling at the scenery, and the bus driver was screeching at him until Lance finally bolted off the bus, nearly forgetting his school bag in the process. "What a scary lady..." Sighing, Lance dug his hands into both of his front pockets, searching for the spare keys his grandfather gave him.

"Hey, Lance!" Badump. Whipping his head almost 180-degrees, Lance was staring in disbelief at the ecstatic neighbor he's been sort-of crushing on for half a week, thanking the Gods for the heavy wind blowing his red locks in every direction. It was admirable – insanely admirable. "I guess you took the bus today for the first time, huh?" His fingerless-gloved hand brushed a couple strands of hair behind his ear, giving Lance a warm, bashful smile that could melt glaciers. "I... hoped you wouldn't miss today, because I didn't see you come out of your house in the morning, and nobody I talk to saw you at school. A-ah, enough about that, though! How's your cheek? Is everything alright?"

His mind was thrown into the midst of chaos, all the questions he built in the past twenty-four hours being burnt down into shambles and ash. With a single glance, Lance was under a trance created by Keith, and he was utterly hopeless. A bundle of shyness was dispersing inside of his frame, a fond sense of affection gnawing at his heart. "Um... yeah, I walked there in the morning this time. Shay and I caught a coffee. And, about yesterday... sorry. Never mind: yeah, I'm fine. Nothing much you can do about a bruise, after all."

The moment Lance was about to ask Keith about the previous night, the front door to his house was swung wide open, and panic was instantly bubbling inside of his head, as he heard his grandfather's slippers scratching against the concrete driveway. Not only was he speaking to Keith, he was only a few inches away from the said-boy, wearing an affectionate, disappearing-grin. Lance was screwed.

"Get in the god damn house, boy!" Another slap hit the same cheek from yesterday, almost sending Lance falling to the ground from the harsh impact. "And you... get the hell off m'property!"

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