Broken

Push You Out, Pull You Back

"See that bottle of sand?" Keith turned, following Lance's finger. "It's from Varadero Beach. Best place in the whole world." Keith raised an eyebrow.

"Do you go there often?" Lance shook his head.

"With a family like ours, there's no way we can just go down to Cuba when we feel like it," Lance said. "We go in little groups. I haven't been in... jeez, four? Maybe five years?"

"But you love it," Keith confirmed. Lance grinned at the memories.

"There's nothing not to love." 

They sat down at the table Enrique had led them to, Lance immediately ordering lemonade mixed with Mountain Dew while Keith stuck with a simple Pepsi.

As soon as they were alone once again, Lance shoved a menu into Keith's hands. Keith tensed, sitting up shock straight. 

"Calm down," Lance laughed. "It's just a menu." Keith nodded, glancing over it. He didn't quite understand what half the words were describing. What on earth was "arroz con pollo"? He let out a frustrated sigh.

Lance must have noticed his frustration. The taller boy scooted into the seat next to Keith, glancing at the page he'd flipped to.

"Ooh, let's go a page back," he said, flipping to the previous list. Keith raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" 

"Bebidas," Lance said, mentioning the title of the page. "That's all the drinks, namely the alcoholic ones. You don't seem like the type to have a fake ID on you." 

"I'm not," Keith assured, skimming over the words in front of him. Lance translated everything, telling him what was good. 

When a waiter came to their table, Lance grinned up at her. 

"Dos elotes, por favor," he said before Keith had the chance to get anything out.

"Sí," the young lady nodded. "Algo mas?" Keith watched the exchange silently, eyes darting back and forth.

"No, ahora no. Tal vez mas tarde." The woman walked off, curly hair swaying in a long ponytail behind her. Keith looked at Lance, eyes slightly wide.

"What?" he asked. "Did you have to do the whole thing in Spanish?" Lance grinned, leaning back in his seat.

"I told you it was a surprise." Keith huffed, crossing his arms.

"You said the place was a surprise. I wanna know what I'm about to eat." Lance finally relented.

"Okay, jeez, fine. Elote is Mexican street corn. It's got, like, sour cream and spices on it. Kinda messy, but really good, so it's all worth it." Keith nodded slowly. He was beginning to question whether or not agreeing to this was really such a great idea.

Then again, he got to go somewhere with Lance and only Lance, so it was kinda nice. He could almost pretend it was a date or something.

The girl came back with two corn cobs loaded with everything Lance had described on rectangular white plates. Keith nodded his thanks before she left once more and then picked up the corn carefully. Lance laughed when he nearly dropped it.

"Just pick it up, idiot," he grinned. "We've got napkins for a reason." He then proceeded to squeeze the lime on the corner of his plate out onto the corn take a big bite out of it. Instantly, his mouth was rimmed with sour cream and red spices, earning a laugh from Keith.

"Oh, I'd like to see you try," Lance pouted. Keith raised an eyebrow.

"Are you actually making this into a competition?" He rolled his eyes. "It's not that hard. You're just eating like a five year old." Lance smirked.