Broken

Jump On The Impulse

Jump On The Impulse

{Word Count: 805}
Dying to jump on the impulse,
But running before I get caught

Keith hated lunch.

Now, he didn't hate eating lunch (after all, what was there to hate about food). Perhaps it was more accurate to say that Keith hated cafeterias.

For starters, they were loud, always so loud. And on top of that, weird things happened in cafeterias, like fights and messed-up concoctions and Asian chicken bites that looked suspiciously not like chicken. Cafeterias were where people gossiped and shared food and kissed in the back corner where the teachers can't see and wow, cafeterias were weird.

And maybe it was just Keith. Maybe it was just because he never had a friend to throw mashed potatoes at or someone to lock lips with in the corner (actually, scratch that second one, the back corner was filthy), but the cafeteria, commons, mess hall, whatever, was a thing only to be faced with headphones on and Brendon Urie and Gerard Way on full blast. 

Keith didn't flee the art room as he had his other classes. He felt content packing his things neatly into his bag and exiting at less than light speed, which gave him time to fish out is headphones. Before even stepping into the hall, he had "Dear Maria, Count Me In" pounding into his ears so loudly that he was at least forty seven per cent sure that his eardrums would rupture. But controlled, rhythmic sound was better than the cacophonous discord of the hallways, and so he cherished the brain-damaging volume.

Once in the cafeteria, Keith immediately sought out the most quiet, least-inhabited area, which just happened to be near the exit. Odd. Usually the tables near the near the entryways were packed, but for some reason, everyone seemed content sitting in the center and back of the lunchroom.

Keith, not wanting to get caught up in the insanity of the lunch lines, opted to wait out the worst of the crowd and thumb through his phone for a few minutes instead. Once there were only a few people left in the lines, he stood, stuffing his phone into his back pocket and getting in the nearest line.

He played it safe, dragging one of those pre-packaged peanut butter and jelly sandwiches onto his tray along with a scoop of peaches and a cup of water. The woman at the register rang him up, giving him change for the five that he set on the counter. Then, it was right back to his corner seat at the front of the lunchroom.

About halfway through lunch, he saw someone sit down beside him. He glanced at the person out of the corner of his eye. The teen sitting beside him gave a small wave.

"I thought I should apologize properly," he said. "You know, for nearly running you over?" Keith finally looked up properly, recognizing the same brown-green jacket and messy brown hair from earlier.

"I already told you, it's fine," Keith muttered. The kid just stared at him. Finally, he stuck his hand out.

"I'm Lance," he grinned. "But you can call me—"

A flash of green was suddenly tackling Lance to the ground, screeching.

"The hell, Lance? Are you creeping out some new kid again?" the newcomer yelled, hitting Lance's shoulder again and again.

"Oh, God– Pidge! Ow! Jeez, you're so violent!" Lance protested, raising his hands to shield himself against the attacker. Keith watched in confusion, unsure whether or not this should be a point of concern. Should he tell a teacher that this little kid was beating someone up?

Eventually, Lance scrambled to his feet, putting several feet between him and "Pidge," grinning and gasping for breath.

"I am so sorry," he said, turning to Keith. "I had no idea they were going to come out of nowhere like that."

"And I am sorry that this total creep tried to flirt with you," Pidge shot, glaring at Lance and immediately hopping up onto their tiptoes to yank the back of Lance's hair. Lance yelped, taking another step away from who Keith assumed was his friend. He glanced between the two, still not quite sure how Pidge, standing at about five feet, zero inches, could have taken down Lance, who had to be almost six feet tall. Especially with the ease with which they brought Lance to the ground.

Lance flashed another grin at Keith, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, it was nice meeting you..." He trailed off, realizing that he didn't know the black-haired boy's name.
"Keith."

"Nice meeting you, Keith," Lance finished, giving a casual, two-fingered salute and a wink as he walked back to his table, Pidge having to power walk to keep up with his long strides.

With that wink, Keith realised two things.

One, Lance was very cute.

Two, Keith was very gay.

▂▃▅▇█▇▅▃▂

Just his luck. Keith's next class was US History, which happened to also be Lance's next class. The familiar face was the first thing he noticed when he entered the classroom.

Lance was sitting at one of the two-person desks with white-haired girl. The two were chatting animatedly, as if they knew each other very well. Keith's heart sunk a little bit, though he didn't know why. Lance slung an arm around the girl's shoulder and Keith took this as his cue to look away and find an empty desk.

When the teacher announced that the students could work in small groups, Lance waved Keith over to his table. Keith, feeling that it would be rude to decline, dragged his chair over and put his notebook in his lap.

"This is the guy I was telling you about," Lance said to the girl beside him, all smiles. "Meet Keith. Keith, this is Allura." Lance cupped a hand beside his mouth and semi-whispered, "She's totally into me, even though she doesn't realise it yet." The girl – Allura – rolled her eyes playfully.

"Don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth," she said, her tone joking, a tinge of British in her voice. Keith gave a half hearted smile, ducking his head directly afterward to focus on his notebook and beginning to describe three benefits of the Industrial Revolution in America and tell which inventions were the most beneficial.

Lance must have gotten the hint, because he didn't say a word to him for the rest of the period.
He was alone again in his next period, which was physics. Well, unless you counted Shiro, or Mister Shirogane, who was teaching the class. He tried to be subtle, but Keith caught him glancing over at least seven times.

During a lull in the period, while the class solved a torque equation, Shiro stepped over to where Keith was sitting.

"Is your day going all right?" he asked quietly. to which Keith gave a silent nod. Shiro gave a small smile. "Good." He then pointed out a small error in Keith's work and ambled over to another desk.

The day ended on a nice note, as his last class of the day, music production, came with a very easy assignment which Keith finished in about twenty minutes. After that, he was free to scroll through art tags on Tumblr and listen to Fall Out Boy through the classroom's headphones.