Dirty Laundry by Gibslythe

Day 2 Ch. 7

Saturday, December 17th

9:17 A.M.

Keith woke up to find Lance slobbering against his shoulder.

It wasn't a pleasing sight - the boy was never a pretty sleeper. He always slept with his jaw hanging wide open, slobber dangling from a lip and snores pulsing in through his mouth and out through his nose.

"Shit," Keith murmured with sleepy eyes, rubbing at a sharp pain that jabbed itself at the base of his neck. It was no doubt caused from his terrible sleeping position, and Keith already had Lance to blame.

Lance snored against Keith's shoulder, preventing every attempt Keith might've made at escape. After Keith's fourth try he finally gave up, officially pushing Lance forcefully off his right side. Lance gurgled a few incoherent words as his body flopped against the basement carpet, and Keith only snickered when Lance continued to snore.

The idea of the Sanchez family - a family of strangers - seeing Keith with bed head should've made Keith feel anxious. It normally would've, had it not been for the equally embarrassing bedhead that Cleo and Benji sported.

"Morning," Cleo gurgled into her cheerios when Keith arrived up the basement stairs. "You have fun sleeping on the couch?"

Keith rubbed at his eyes. "Not even close. Lance hogs everything, even my shoulder."

Benji snorted and set down a glass of orange juice. "That's what you get for bein' nasty."

Keith would've responded, though he strangely felt it not his place. This was Lance's brother, Lance's best friend, Lance's sibling. It would feel, well, strange for Keith to partake in the banter.

"Your hair is great. Just by the way." Cleo smiled up at Keith again, this time a mouth full of milk. Feeling awkward, Keith absentmindedly ran fingers through his hair, feeling the stiffness the couch cushions had shaped it to become.

"T-Thanks?" Keith stuttered, not sure how to act. It was different when Lance was there - Lance always masked Keith by being so enthusiastic. Keith could stand by the sidelines and smile, watching the family events go by without ever having to participate. However, without Lance? That's when he felt vulnerable. And there Keith was, standing in his wrinkled clothes from the day before, all by himself in the kitchen.

"You don't have to be scared, you know."

Keith's eyes widened at Cleo's words, and he felt his shoulders tense.

"You really don't," She continued, standing up to put her bowl in the sink. "We aren't going to judge you here. I know it's strange, meeting your boyfriend's family, but we don't bite."

"Sometimes. Sometimes we don't bite."

Cleo threw Benji a nasty look, one that only made him snicker into his arm.

"What I'm trying to say-"

Benji stood up and cut Cleo off, placing a firm hand on Keith's shoulder. "Is don't worry, man. Cleo's right- we don't judge. We're just glad you make Lance happy." With one firm squeeze to the shoulder Benji had moved, taking his bowl to lay in the sink beside Cleo's.

Keith bit his lip, watching as Benji took the stairs up to his room two at a time.

He knew that Benji's words were meant to be kind. And it's true - they did calm Keith's anxieties, as well as his fears of disapproval. Still, Keith couldn't help but feel a swell of guilt. They were lying to this family, and the worst part was that Keith wanted to keep doing it.

Once Benji was gone Cleo showed Keith around the kitchen. She pointed out where he could get cups for water and the cereal cupboard; she even showed him the kid's drawer. This was a 'special' drawer, one only used by Josie and her younger cousins. It held many things; plastic bowls covered in ninja turtles, plates designed with Disney princesses, even a large cup with Princess Leia on the front. Some looked old, the images on the plastic slowly grown to fade with every use. One plate in particular stood out to Keith, and he pointed at it immediately.

"What's that one?"

Cleo noticed the plate and snorted. It was a white plate, though the original color had obviously faded to a thin yellow. The plate was covered in marker, all drawings done by a child.

"My mom thinks she's really crafty? But she's not, she hasn't sewn a dress or made greeting cards once in her life. Anyway, when we were kids she'd try to think up new crafts for us. One of them was drawing on a plate, which is sort of weird? Anyway, that one is Lance's."

Raising an eyebrow, Keith grabbed the plate from the drawer to inspect it. The drawing was terrible, probably done when Lance was five or six. It was in all blue, the lines thin and shaky.

After examining the plate, Keith came to realize that the drawing was of two people: A small boy and an older girl. Their bodies were round and their arms simple lines, reminding Keith of potato people. In the corner of the plate was a small note, one written in handwriting that obviously belonged to Rosa.

'Sophia and me' by Lance Sanchez

Age six

March, 2001

Keith swallowed, realizing how valuable the plate in his hands was. He set the plate back down softly.

"Anyway," Cleo continued, shoving the steep drawer back into place. "You should go wake Lance up. I hear you two are babysitting today?"