Locker Neighbors (Klance)

1

      To say the least, Keith was bad with people.

And falling for a beautiful Cuban exchange student didn't help with that.

It all started on a Monday morning, the first day of second semester.

"Excuse me, could you help me with my locker?" That voice. His faint accent, it was so pretty. Keith couldn't help but wonder where he was from.

Keith nodded, not trusting his voice to hold out with the extreme social anxiety that was constricting around his heart like a snake.

8-16-36

Keith twisted the lock, trying to get both of them to class as quickly as he could.

The locker popped open easily. Keith made it his personal goal to escape and get the air back in his lungs.

"Thank you." The tan boy said. Keith nodded, already a meter away with his back turned.

Every day it seemed the same, the tan boy would attempt the combination twice, before looking at Keith and asking for assistance. Sometimes, he'd show up early and try three times, whereas other times
he'd show up with bedhead and only glance at the lock with a longing gaze before asking Keith to step in.

In all honesty, Keith didn't mind. Had it made him late once or twice? Yes. Had he gone to detention once for it? Yes, but Keith would take thousands of detentions before he'd let the soft flutter in his stomach stop coming.

"Excuse me..." before the boy could finish, Keith had stepped to the right and opened it.

Stepping back to his locker, Keith pulled out his binders, slammed it, and headed to class.

At the end of the day, Keith stood back and watched the tan boy's hands as he closed his backpack. He'd probably asked Pidge and Hunk, the only other people in the hall who could possibly help him open his locker.

After the boy had left, Keith wandered over to Pidge, his best friend.

"Do you know his name?" Keith felt himself asking.

"Whose name?" Pidge inquired.

"That foreign one with the cute accent."

Now is probably a good time to explain just how gay Keith was. He was so far out of the closet that it almost seemed like that valedictorian was pulling other people out of the closet.

"Ahh, you mean Lance." Lance, cute name.

"Did you help him get his locker open?" Keith asked.

"No way Beefy boy, he's had that figured out since his third day here. If you ask me, I think he just likes to talk to you." Pidge stated.

"I call bullshit, Pigeon." Keith said.

"By any chance, do you have his combo memorized?" Pidge asked.

"I've opened it twice a day, every day, how could I not have memorized it?" Keith said.

"Do you have paper? Pencil?"

"Yes...?"

"Write him a note." Pidge suggested.

"What do I say? 'Oh, hello Lance, I'm really gay for you, wanna hang out?" Keith said sarcastically.

"I think that's a great idea."

"Listen, I'll think about it and leave a note tomorrow, got it?"

"Yuppie. Now get home, you lunatic." Pidge skipped away, leaving the boy to stand alone.

Keith couldn't sleep that night.

At least his note was done.

First thing the next morning, Keith was early to school, his note was in place and he was most definitely not going to be there when Lance read it.

Keith was nowhere to be seen when Lance got into school the next day. He had easily opened his locker on his own.