18 - Emo Ponytail

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A/N
I know y'all want some real Klance moments. And trust me, I can't wait to write those scenes. But I don't wanna rush, ya feel? I need to build things up (i.e. this chapter wink wink) especially when this fanfic doesn't focus solely on romance. I hope y'all understand 🤗

Anyway, enjoy!

Feedbacks and votes are highly appreciated lovesssss :)

LANCE

Ten A.M. on a Saturday morning was too early for Lance to leave the warm comfort of his bed, especially after adrenaline had dried  out, followed by fatigue that further nudged him and only to be engulfed by the mattress. But the sound of his dad from the other side of the door was what propelled him – bleary-eyed and all –  on his feet like a recruit soldier. It was quite of an astonishment that he managed to reach his door without collapsing, seeing as his lanky frame could be a disadvantage at uncalled times.

Jorge McClain's fist was raised mid-air when Lance pulled the door open. "Buenos dias, Papi," he croaked with a half-baked grin as he leaned through the open doorway, aware that he must still be giving out scents of sweat and basketball and victory.

Whatever it was that his dad was about to say was replaced with; "Did you shower last night after the game?"

"I think I did ..."

"Well, you need another one,"

Lance took a whiff of his armpit and wrinkled his nose. "Soooo, what's up, Pa?"

"Mr Wright called just now," his dad began, with a tone that implied that this might end up in a lecture. "Said there was supposed to be another simulation training last night."

Now Lance was truly alert. "But I had a game!"

"Did you inform him beforehand?"

Lance's words were lodged in his throat, leaving an open mouth. There was no point trying to come up with a lie when knowing it was futile. Because no, he had completely forgotten to inform Adam about it. Because he was too jubilant about the game. And because he was an utter idiot.

His silence seemed to give Jorge a concrete enough answer, because then the man released a sigh. "Lance," he said, "what did I tell you about keeping others notified about your plans?"

Ducking his head, abashed, he murmured, "Mention it in advance."

"Did you do that?"

"No,"

"You're not gonna repeat this, okay?"

He knew his dad was just being a parent. It wasn't like he was yelling at him or beating him. It wasn't like he was using harsh words and going on a rampage over one mistake. In fact, Jorge McClain was a forbearing father who remained calm when he was dealing with his children's attitudes. But there was the painful tug at Lance's heart and stomach nonetheless, flashing the words YOU SCREWED UP over and over again.

It is one thing to be accused of something false, but it is another side of hell when you're the real cause of it.

Suddenly last night felt like a dream.

"Okay, Pa," Lance nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't need to apologise to me, mijo," said his dad lightly. "It's your instructor we're talking about. You can apologise to him. You're his student after all."

"I will,"

His dad clapped him once on the shoulder, a smile spreading on his lips. There was almost a guilt-ridden mien tinged on his face as he did this. "But all the same, well done – for last night, I mean. Rachel told me you made a spectacular stunt,"

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