Broken

Let Them Fall

Let Them Fall

Lance loved food, no doubt about it.  He especially loved his mom’s food, but for some reason, that evening, his love was nowhere to be found. His mom had made enchiladas and rice, two of his favourite things, but Lance simply sat in his chair, stabbing listlessly at the chicken-and-cheese-filled tortilla with his fork. Not even his hands were twitching around for something to do.

It was quiet in the house for once, as the little ones were watching cartoons in the basement and his dad was working late. He had been the last one to come down for dinner, and the only person that remained at the table with him was his mom.

“I know that look,” she sighed, setting down her fork with a clatter. “What cute girl is it this time?”

“It’s not a girl,” Lance said absentmindedly, not realizing that he’d just outed himself. He glanced up to see his mother smiling.

“What cute boy then?” she amended, not caring in the slightest. Lance raised an eyebrow at how easily she had accepted that, but blew it off. This was his Mamá after all, the same one that had given money to people on the street without hesitation and even bought Pidge their fist binder. Of course she wouldn’t care.

“This new kid,” Lance grumbled. “His name’s Keith. Scrawny little Asian guy. He has a mullet, for God’s sake.” His mom gave a light laugh.

“But you think he’s cute,” she grinned. Lance threw his hands in the air.

“Well, obviously! He’s, like, Korean or something. Do you know how attractive Koreans are?” Another laugh.

“Of course I do,” Rosa grinned. “Is he like one of those boys in that band Rachel likes? What was it, BLT or something?” Lance knew very well that she had gotten the name wrong on purpose.

“BTS,” Lance corrected. “And no. He’s emo. I’m pretty sure he even wears eyeliner. Either that or his eyelashes are just really dark.”

“Hm, so like the Gerald guy?” Rosa asked. (Veronica’s emo phase had left a substantial mark on the family.)

“Gerard,” Lance said, “and yeah. I bet he’s super into The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys and everything.” The teen let his forehead hit the table, groaning loudly.

“And he’s super antisocial. Like, he’ll barely talk to me. He doesn’t even laugh at jokes; he just does this little sideways smirk thing!” Rosa reached across the table, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Look, remember one thing,” she said, her tone gentle, but the smirk she wore contradicting. “Boys, especially at this age, are all idiots.” Lance raised his head so fast he thought he gave himself whiplash.

“Hey!” Rosa laughed.

“It’s true!” she grinned. Lance couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head.

“Thanks, Mamá,” he muttered.

“Just charm him with your terrible pick-up lines,” Rosa said, standing from the table and picking up her empty plate.

“My pick-up lines are amazing, I will have you know,” Lance said indignantly, taking a large bite out of his enchilada.

“Give me one example,” Rosa said, glancing over her shoulder.

“Uh,” Lance muttered, fumbling for the right words. “Oh! I got one. Are you carbon dioxide? Because you’ve taken my breath away.” Rosa bust out in laughter.

“Mijo, that’s so bad!” she said. “If you manage to get yourself a boyfriend with those lines, I will give you twenty, no, fifty dollars.” Lance gave a determined grin.