Room 1013

Seven Years Later

"Pidge! Hunk!" Lance shouted to his friends with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth and his arm waving in the air. His backpack flopped around his shoulder as he ran; his coat flew behind him like a cape. He always walked to school with Hunk and Pidge since they all lived in the same neighborhood.

They turned around, scraping their shoes on the sidewalk to give him a teasing look. Their clothes swayed with the motion; and their hair glowed in the morning light.

Pidge followed him with her eyes as he ran up to them. "Late again, McClain?" The sun shine brightened her snarky smile and casted a glow onto the rim of her large glasses. The spring air was cool, but the sun was warm. Trees had brightened with the green that left them in the fall.

Lance took a quick bite of his toast, "Whatever. We only have three months left."

Hunk patted his shoulder, "Yeah, three months until exams."

Lance groaned, throwing his hands up in the air, "Kill me now!"

"Hey," Pidge leaned foreword to look at both of them as they walked, "do you guys wanna play Fever after school today?"

Hunk nodded, "Yeah, I can."

"I think I can sneak away," Lance accepted with a wink. Pidge and Hunk continued to talk, but Lance's attention was pulled away. On the other side of the street, a flash of black caught his attention. He scanned the area, but couldn't find the source.

"Hey Lance!"

"Lance!"

He looked back to the group to see them giving questioning glares. Realizing he had stopped in his daze, he hopped forward. He took one last look, then returned to the conversation. "Sorry, guys. I guess I'm tired."

Lance tapped his pencil on his desk and stared out the window at the swaying trees. English class wasn't his forte; it lost his attention the second he walked in the door. The people surrounding him always seemed to go a hundred miles an hour while Lance stayed idle. He always felt like he could never catch up to the other kids his age. Sports were difficult anyway because of the car accident he was in when he was nine. His injuries healed, but he still had slight back pain and walked with a faint limp. And Lance was smart, always getting good grades, but they were never exceptional. There wasn't anything he was known for.

School went by in a blur–as it always does. Lance was tired of the same people doing the same thing every day of his life. Nothing ever changed in that town. The teachers still hounded the students. The gas station was still getting robbed. The police still didn't give a shit. Lance felt like he was stuck in a cage. A lonely blue bird in a cage all by himself.

Lance apologized to Pidge and went home instead of playing video games with them. She was upset, but understood. He kicked off his shoes as he entered his house, "I'm back Mama!"

Lance's mother peeked out of the kitchen, "Welcome back m'ijo! I made some cookies! Would you like on-"

He cut her off with a gentle hand, "No thanks. I'm not hungry right now." He forced a warm smile, "I'm just gonna go do my homework."

She lowered the tray of sweets and frowned slightly, "Okay, good luck."

He skipped up the stairs with a half-hearted smile and entered his room. Flopping down on his bed, he let out a large huff. He lied there for a moment, taking in his surroundings. The feeling from before never went away. It always lied dormant in his mind and woke any time it pleased. Even when he spoke to his parents or siblings or friends, he would often drift off. It was like he wasn't completely there, but functioned just fine.

A faded golden orange caught his eye, and he turned his head to inspect it. It was the stuffed lion he had gotten from his family when he was in the hospital. It sat on top of his dresser next to a stack of dvd cases and a Monster can. He sighed, then walked over to pick it up and bring it to the bed. Lying on his side, he placed the stuffed animal in front of him and stroked its crazy hair.

"At least I've got you."

The only time that Lance was calm was when he held the lion. It gave him a sense of security and a makeshift home. Lance curled his arm around the toy and hugged it, letting himself fall asleep to the smell of its lavender detergent.