Knee Socks and Booty Shorts Don't Mix

Chapter One: End of the Spiral, or Maybe Not?

"Keith," Old Principal Willbrug sighed, looking down at his neatly folded hands, which were placed on top of his perfectly organized desk.

"I'm worried about you, your grades have been dropping and this is the second fight you've been in this week," The man continued, his voice steady and calm as always as his cold, icy blue eyes turned up to meet Keith's.

"If this behavior continues, I'll be forced to take serious action. I do not believe either of us want this for you. So, in lieu of punishing you, I am instating you in the school's basketball team." Willbrug frowned, his slightly chapped lips pursing a bit.

"What?" Was all Keith could seem to manage as he sat in an uncomfortable chair in front of the principal's desk, eyes wide in disbelief.

"The basketball team will do you good, I'm sure. As I've learned from your brother, a wonderful past student of mine, you are physically inclined, at least, to an extent. It should take you no time to settle in, and they could use more members at the moment." He responded curtly.

"They don't need me, though! I don't even know how to play." Keith sputtered for a valid excuse not to join the basketball team, hanging on the edge of his seat.

"You will catch on, it is an easy sport to learn. As is most sports. You just need some practice, I'm positive you'll be fine."

Keith's eyebrows furrowed and a grimace made it's way to his face. There was no point to this. He'd rather take a punishment than be forced to join a stupid sports team.

"I know this may not be favorable for you, but it is for the best, I believe." At this comment, Keith was outraged.

It wasn't favorable? Who the hell did this guy think Keith was? Of course it wasn't favorable. He didn't want to do this in the least. How could he know that it would be "for the best"? He didn't know Keith at all, he couldn't even begin to know what was best for him.

"I have already contacted Takashi, he said he would be more than happy to make sure you got to your practices. He even said he'd volunteer to help coach." Now that Shiro knew, it would be impossible to get out of this. All of Keith's hopes were dashed.

Keith's grimace teetered on the edge of becoming a pitiful pout as he jumped up and left in a flurry of anger. He stomped to his locker to grab his stuff; it was the end of the day, after all. When he made it out of the school he all but ran to his home, attempting to dispel his anger before he faced Shiro.

When he entered the small house that he and Shiro resided in, he could hear his brother walking around in the kitchen.

"Keith?" He heard the questioning voice from the general direction of the kitchen.

"Yeah, Shiro, I'm home." Keith called back, frown still set on his face.

Immediately, Shiro made his way to greet Keith face to face, kind smile set in place.

"How was today?" Shiro asked happily.

"Don't put up that act, Shiro. You know how today was." Keith responded, his words clipped and harsh, a clear sign that his anger was rising again.

"Okay, okay, I may be guilty, but there's no need to get so mad." Shiro sighed, dropping his façade.

"You entertained my principal's absurd idea that basketball would help me! That's ridiculous. You know it'll only make things worse." Keith crossed his arms, his defenses up and raring to go.

"You don't know that, Keith, it'll be good to get you out of the house. Besides, doesn't Pidge play basketball too? It'll give you a chance to hang out with them more." The older of the two spoke, using his peacemaking voice, which only served to make his argument more compelling.

Keith grunted angrily at the situation he was in and stormed off to his room. As he left, Shiro watched with a frown, he was truly worried for his little brother. So much had happened recently that he was beginning to think Keith wouldn't be able to handle it.

The younger of the two slammed his door shut and flopped onto his bed. He couldn't remember when Pidge had said the next basketball practice was, he never really payed much attention to their interest in social sports. He begrudgingly pulled out his phone to text his aforementioned friend.

K: hey, when's the next basketball practice?

P: Why do ya wanna know that?

K: because willbrug decided that the basketball team would be good for me to stop fighting and to get my life on track

P: Soooo.... does that mean you're finally joining the basketball team after I've nagged you for years?

K: yeah, unfortunately

P: You're gonna have so much fun.

P: I'm gonna have so much fun.

K: since when have I ever had fun playing a sport on a team? and I know you will

P: You had fun playing volleyball with me that one time

K: yup, that one time when we were 14

P: That one time reveals it all! Anyway, the next practice is tomorrow. Guess I'll see ya there?

K: yeah, unfortunately

Keith groaned as he tossed his phone to the foot of his bed. He wasn't ready to be thrown into basketball. Let alone basketball with practice the next day. At least Pidge would be there, he knew they'd help him to the best of their abilities. Honestly, if Pidge could put up with basketball for so long, then something about it must have been okay.

What choice in his life had lead him to this situation? Why basketball, of all possible things Willbrug could have chosen? Why not theater, band, swimming, track, orchestra, or even chorus? At least with those things he could be socially isolated enough. But no, he chose something that would specifically force him to socialize and cooperate. He guessed in the long run, Willbrug had chosen one of the best options for his intended outcome.

Well, no matter how much he wanted to avoid it, he couldn't. Pidge and Shiro had been told. There was no getting out of that one. Screw dinner. Keith thought as he snuggled into bed and let himself fall asleep, pissed at the world.