Unknown

Keith

"Hey, it's you!"

Keith looks up from his book, closing it with a soft thud at the sight of the short girl in front of him. "Oh. Hey, Pidge."

"Keith, right?" Pidge asks, setting a few books down on the counter. Among them Keith spots a book on astrophysiology, two on the history of America, and The Giver. "I didn't know you volunteered here."

Keith reaches for the books, sliding them across the counter towards the old, usually broken scanner. "It's good for my resume," he explains with a shrug, grabbing the first book on the stack. "What brings you here?"

"Modern World History," Pidge says. "Mr. Coran is fun and all, but kind of hard to learn from, you know? He jumps around a lot during lectures. I want to get a jump on the next quarter so I can tell what's happening."

"Yeah." Keith scans the barcodes across the red light one by one, sometimes repeating them if he doesn't hear a beep, and looking up occasionally to check the computer screen. Pidge doesn't seem to care much about his short answers, which is both nice and a little disheartening. Although they barely interact, she's the closest thing he's got to a friend at school.

"I've seen you in my class, now that I think about it. You're in fifth period, right?"

"I think so," he says, not bothering to look up.

"With me and Lance. You know, Lance Fuentes? Tall and flirty? He's got like, brown hair, and he's always talking in class."

Keith nods robotically, staring a hole into the book he has a hold of. Of course he knows who Lance is. How could anyone not know about Lance? He's loud, but moreover, he's funny and charismatic, popular in that easy-to-talk-to way that doesn't quite buy him a place in the royal courtroom of the Garrison, but doesn't cast him into the streets either. Lance Fuentes, annoyingly, imperfectly perfect, with a perfect smile and a perfect personality, and perfect friends like Pidge Gunderson-Holt, who's staring at him weirdly.

He nods again, aware that he's acting more than a little bit strange. "Yeah, we're in the same class," he says finally, turning his attention back to the books.

"You should come sit with us sometime. I know you don't really like human interaction, but it might be a good change, and I'm sure Lance wouldn't mind. I'd ask him, but he's kind of in a bad mood right now."

Is he here? Keith finds himself glancing around the library with bitten back hope (both that he is here and that he isn't). He can see Hunk--Lance's best friend as far as he can tell--poking around the History section, but aside from that there are hardly any familiar faces. Pidge seems to catch his train of thought, because she shakes her head with a sympathetic expression on her face.

"He's holed up at home. Something embarrassing happened at school earlier, so he's kinda just sulking on his own right now." She sighs, shaking her head in exasperation. "Honestly, he's such a drama queen. I keep telling him it's not that big of a deal, but he's acting like it's the end of the world."

That explains why he'd looked so upset during Geometry. Poor guy. Keith shakes his head as if he's agreeing with Pidge, handing her books back with the pink return receipt stuck into the pages of the top one. "Due date's in two weeks."

"Thanks," she says, voice muffled behind the giant stack of books. (He'd offer her a bag, but she seems to be doing alright on her own.) When it's clear that he's not going to say anything else, she turns away and starts heading back towards Hunk. She hasn't gotten more than a few feet away before she stops and turns around again. "You know, Keith, you really should come have lunch with us someday. Like I said, I know you're not really a social butterfly, but Hunk and Lance are easy to be friends with, and you already know me."