Dirty Laundry [REPOSTED]

Chapter 25

2:52 P.M.

A mixtape.

Keith made Lance a bloody mixtape - in CD form no less. So more like a playlist, but whatever.

It was terrible; ten songs compiled, arranged, and burned onto a CD in less than one hour. After his escape to Walmart Keith had snuck back up the stairs and snatched his laptop, all to hide beneath the dresses of Cleo's bedroom closet. He typed away at that thing; downloading, researching, softly banging his head against the closet wall - all to finish with a crappy excuse for a gift.

Sophia assured him Lance would love it, but Keith was still unsure.

"You should give it to him tonight," Cleo offered when Keith emerged from the closet. She sat on the edge of her bed with a brush running through her hair, the dark locks falling down past her shoulder blades.

"I'm debating not giving it at all," Keith cried desperately, laying his now closed laptop on the bed. "I had the hardest time finding songs. And it's such? A meme?"

Cleo ignored that last part. "Which ones did you use?"

Keith tossed her the tape and sighed, falling to the floor and resting his head against the bed. Cleo read over the songs, all sprawled in messy handwriting straight onto the CD. He'd used a sharpie and hoped for the best.

"These are-"

"Stupid?" Keith muttered, feeling defeated. "I know."

Cleo rolled her eyes and handed him the CD back. "I was gonna say perfect, you dipshit."

Keith turned to her with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. "What? Fifty percent of the songs on there aren't even from this century."

"That may be true, but you like those songs. And the other fifty percent? Those are songs Lance is into. It's a perfect combo, so drop it. Okay?"

He didn't really believe her. "But-"

Cleo raised her eyebrows. "Drop. It."

Keith groaned, though he did as he was told and finished the subject. Instead he held the CD in his hands, twirling it between his fingers.

"Do you think he'll like it?"

"Of course he'll like it, Keith. Don't doubt yourself."

"No I mean-" Keith stood up from the floor so he could face her, his expression evidently worried. "What if I cross a line with this? We aren't actually dating, you know that."

"So?"

"So what I'm saying is just that. We aren't dating. Friends don't give each other mixtapes - especially with songs like these."

Cleo was quiet, observing Keith with her blue eyes - ones not weren't far different from the ones on Lance's face. "Then maybe this is the perfect opportunity to tell him how you feel."

Keith gaped. "Tonight?"

She nodded. "Dinner starts around six. You can steal Lance away sometime before then."

Keith wanted to argue against that - he really did. Cleo never gave him much time to respond though, instead escaping from the bedroom and off to finish helping her family make dinner. He was left silent, all to stand alone with his hand clasped around a plastic CD case.

Was he going to do it? Possibly. The thought crossed Keith's mind, only to turn around and cross back all over again.

He wanted to tell Lance, that was something Keith couldn't lie about. At the pit of Keith's stomach, he knew that telling Lance had more than a thousand ways to go wrong. Cleo was right though - he wasn't going to have another option like this.