He hummed, flipping pancakes. His small apartment had a flatscreen TV, a bedroom, and a kitchen. An incense sat on a counter, making the apartment smell like vanilla. His bag of chocolate chips was spilling over the marble counter a bit, which he couldn't be bothered to clean up. It was Saturday, after all. Keefe didn't plan to be doing any cleaning.
He ran a hand through The Hair and smiled, picking up a pancake. He chomped into it, content to be here. He immediately felt guilty for this. He missed them. "The Keeper Crew," as Biana had deemed them, because they would keep each other.
But Foster hadn't. She hadn't kept them. Or maybe they hadn't kept her. Because she was gone. They hadn't heard from Sophie Foster in three months. And the worst part was, Keefe knew why. He knew exactly why.
When Foster had been dared to say her biggest secret, what she blurted out wasn't what he would have thought at all. Not "I like Keefe," or "I like Fitz." Instead, it was "I'm bi. I like girls and boys." And the rest of the Crew had been silent. So Foster, seeing their confused silence, had fled. Hopped in her car and drove far away.
Keefe laughed to himself sadly. "She's not in Kansas anymore, Toto." Keefe took his plate of pancakes and collapsed on the couch, posting a picture on his Instagram.
Keefe just had to do whatever it took to not think about Sophie. She hadn't answered any of his texts since she drove away. And the Crew hadn't talked much since, trying to figure out how on earth they had just lost their best friend.
Keefe flicked on the TV, flipping through YouTube videos. He found the usual horrifying death, pimple popping video, and then finally a funny video. He clicked on that, thinking to himself.
He missed her. He missed her casual- yet awkward- humor, her way of cheering him up, and her snarkiness. His own snark had gone away since she left, for the most part. Keefe felt a sob bubbling up inside him, and ended up chucking his glass of juice at the wall. It shattered and the juice ran down the wall. Keefe got up and was about to wipe it up when he heard a rap on the door.
He went to open the door, not fully knowing what to expect. And who could be standing at the door but Sophie Foster? Her face was red, and her eyes were bloodshot. "Thank god you're here, Keefe. I'm done with this shit."
"Oh my god- you're alive-" Keefe was cut off by Sophie shoving her way into his arms. He wrapped them around her as a sob bubbled up in her chest. She cried into his shoulder, as he led her to the couch. He so desperately wanted to kiss her, to feel her soft pink lips on his. But Foster's health was more important. So Keefe sat down next to her, and she lay her head down in his lap. As she cried her heart out, Keefe played with her hair, silent. He braided it everywhere and traced his fingers up and down her hand. When she finally stopped crying, she sat up and gave him a long hug. "Thank you," Sophie muttered, her brown eyes staring directly at Keefe's blue ones. Keefe nodded, leading her to his bedroom. Her eyes flashed with panic and he gave a weak smile.
Keefe would have to sleep on the balcony tonight. He didn't mind.
He would do anything for Foster.
What do you think? I don't know if I quite captured their characters correctly. Please don't hate on any of this- and remember to follow, favorite, and review!
