Work Text
AUTUMN
My name is Keith. It hasn't always been Keith but that is me. Before Keith, people would call me something different which I like to call (///). You pronounce it similarly to the noise the teacher from peanuts makes. I choose not to share it with people, or those of you reading this, because it's simply unnecessary, and I don't wish to be known as anything other than Keith.
Part one: American Idiot
Lance joined my primary school in year 5, his family being the only Americans the people of Bamburgh had ever met. They had formerly lived in California, and before that Cuba, where Lance was born. His mum is a teacher, which was the reason for all the moving but she had found a permanant job teaching Psychology in a university in Northumberland, so they were here to stay.Lance quickly became popular due to his accent and football skills, which is apparently something 10 year old boys worship, so we didn't speak all that much. I had my own friends. Namely ones that stayed as far away from all sport as possible.Being in the same class, we would be grouped together for activities and school plays, which he loved. Being the center of attention was his hobby and he wasn't too bad at acting, or rather, being dramatic, so he was often cast as big roles - Mike Teavee being one of them.
"I don't know. I hate chocolate" he would say each performance, slouched over a controller, staring at the cardboard telly those of us not in the play had made just days before. I remember that play so vividly, mainly because it was so extravagant (We had our Violet Beauregarde float up behind a curtain to make it look like she was growing - it was hard work for the kids who had to lift her but it looked pretty realistic.), but because I was so impressed with Lance. I thought he was funny.He was the perfect image of an American boy: bright eyes, surfer-like hair, and a cloud of optimism following him wherever he went. Movie star. To me he was ethereal. And I thought that way until a time I had gone out with my friends and we came upon his posse. They were playing in the the Deers Lane river, doing back flips off the edge and pushing each other in. They called to us and we knew what they wanted but we kept walking. That was when they came over and started harrassing us, not letting us walk by. They scared me and said nasty things to me and my friends which Lance wasn't involved in but he was there. He watched it all happen and did nothing and I decided I no longer liked him. That sounds harsh but It's not that hard to get on the list of people I don't like. It was okay though because I didn't have to interact with any of these boys so I never did and I was able to hate them from afar. (I still feel strongly that the majority of them are bad people.)Lance and I ended up going to the same highschool, I ignored him, but we were sat next to each other in geography after he moved because he was disrupting the class when next to his friend. I didn't speak to him but he would do or say something that I found funny so he made it his mission to make me laugh each lesson, which he succeeded at.
Geography quickly became my favourite lesson.He was the only one to really try and talk to me. This was mainly my fault. I ate my lunch alone and I didn't speak to anyone else at school, in fact I despised a lot of them. For no good reason, I just didn't like them.A new term started and we were given a new seating plan in geography. What the fuck? The one lesson actually worth while and it's stripped away from me.
"Why don't you tell us about Lance anymore?" my mum asked me one evening,
"He got moved away from me. We don't speak anymore."
"Oh. I thought you were friends?"
"Well... Yeah but... We only spoke in geography."
"Hmm you should ask him to come over. Stay for tea."
"I'm not going to do that." I groaned.
"Why? You never invite friends over"
"I don't have friends mum."
This got me a look. The look.
I drop it.Life goes on as normal. Things are fine. I'm sitting on a lunch table next to the field when I feel someone plop down next to me. God. Please go away I think.
"Hey giggles."
Huh? I look up to see who's voice I've just heard
"Hey" I respond to a smiley Lance sat next to me. Why has he sat with me? Has he come to ridicule me? Have I got something wrong with my bag? My lunch?
"Can I hang out with you?" oh.
" 'Course."
He swings his legs round so he's sat properly at the table and opens his bag.
"Where are your friends?" I ask him, as I too turn around so we are facing the same way, now eating our lunches.
"I don't like them."
And you chose to sit with me?
"Oh. Why?"
"Dicks."
I laugh and he smiles at me
"Why do you eat alone?"
I repeat the same thing I tell my mum when she badgers on.
"Why?"
I shrug.
"You don't talk much huh."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Part two: girls and boys
Purple yellow purple yellow purple yellow
I walk through the crowd of people, desperately trying to get to my next class as soon as possible - these moments between classes make me nervous. But I make it. An hour goes by and I'm gone again.
Purple yellow purple yellow purple yellow
I don't stare down at the floor to be edgy. It's a habit. I'm prone to falling over or tripping. I need to keep an eye on where I'm going.
Purple yellow purple-
"Nice laces"I look up and spot Lance, inches from my face. If I had payed less attention I would have walked straight into him. "Hi.""I'll meet you at the veranda. See ya." and with that, he was off. Uh... Okay. I walk to class and sit through another hour of... Of what? Who knows.
I'll meet you at the veranda
There were two verandas, each with tables, which were crowded in the winter when it rained and flooded in the summer when people were looking for a tiny sliver of shade. We weren't allowed in the classrooms, so it's the veranda or being burned alive in surprisingly hot British summers. Death rays. I'm sure Lance would think otherwise."Howdy!" Lance yelled over at me from one of the tables he was perched upon. He gave me a wave which I returned. As I sat I asked him, "Why did you want to meet here""Why'd you think?" he asked me, incredulously. I stared back at him. "Lunch?" he saysDid he meet me to have lunch with me? I smile. He smiles back. "Whats with the laces?" I shrug. "Thought they looked cool. My mum bought me the different colours.""I like it. What has fifty shades of green got to say about it?" I laugh. Fifty shades of green. Our head teacher. When the interviews and whatnot was going on in the beginning of the year (After the former head left after a suspicious incident), we had a few 'contenders' come in and present two assemblies, one for the higher years, one for the lower. One of them was fifty shades, who told us all about the time he got angry at someone at the work place and was told to go outside and count the different shades of green to calm down. I don't remember the moral of the story, really, and I'm not sure it had one, but it's how he garnered his name."He hasn't seen me today. I don't think he'll let it slide when he does, though.""No. Enjoy it whilst it lasts, I heard he brought someone in because he had a suspicion that they were wearing denim.""Seriously?" "uh huh. It's a witch hunt. I swear." I laugh again.From this point forward we became a duo. It was true that his old friends were dicks, and they didnt seem to truly care that Lance had gone but if they walked past us we would get a look. It didn't bother me.Year 8 came around."What are you doing for your birthday?" Lance asked me one lunch time. "Just with family.""You don't wanna do anything with me?" His tone was cheeky, but I could tell he was being sincere. "I mean, sure. Do you wanna come over? I've asked for spaghetti.""I'd love to!"I hadn't asked him prior, because I was worried he wouldn't want to and I didn't want to pressure him. I was glad he wanted to come though. It would be the first time one of us went round the others' house, so my mum was excited. Naturally."Oh I can't wait to finally meet him," She said to me, "I bet he and your dad will get along.""Hmm, I think so too."He arrived and we ate. My mum and dad fell in love with him immediately and it was the first time I was happy to spend my birthday with someone other than my parents.He got me a Cure CD - he said it was his favourite and he thought I would like it so I put it into my CD player after dinner and he layed down on my bed.Fast forward three years and we can be found doing the exact same thing."I think," He said to me from the bottom of my bed, "The feeling I get listening to the cure will be the closest I'll ever be to feeling in love."
We'll come back to that.
A few months after my birthday I spoke to Lance about cutting my hair."Like, short short?""Short short." "Hmm. I think it'll suit you."This was around the same time I was kept up all time contemplating different things about myself. A hot topic for my moments in the dark were sexuality and gender. Of course. Of course I'd be the one to probably maybe definitely be a little gay. That's fantastic for me.
Am I gay?
I don't like girls. I don't want to be gay.
Huh? That's probably a requirement.
I like boys.
Do I?
I don't know. Do you?
Maybe I'm asexual.
Sex. Gross. No thanks.
I pushed this aside and decided to get my hair short instead of dealing with the thousand of things running through my mind."I think you should shave it.""absolutely not. I'm not that crazy.""Fine."When I got it cut, it looked ok. I had a long fringe that sat over my forehead and long ish back and sides - my mum specifically asked for a pixie cut, she was going to make absolutely sure I still looked feminine. Not that I wanted that, but I wanted to keep her happy. I ended up looking really emo but I was okay with that, I could hide behind it and I could easily look in the mirror and pretend I was a boy. Why do I pretend to be a boy? For fun I guess. I like it when people think I'm a boy and call me he because of my short hair. You what?
Oh.