"Hi! My name is Lance. Do you want to play with me?"
Keith's head whips up instantly, eyes wide with shock. He hastily glances around to be sure the boy isn't talking to anyone else, but of course Keith is the only one sitting at the far edge of the playground on the secluded damp wooden bench. Like always, he had planned to read comic books or doodle hippos on the corners of his notebook pages, but this is new. He's not sure if he likes the attention or not.
The boy, Lance, seems to forget what he was asking when he sees the hippo carefully drawn on Keith's notebook. Drawing is one of the only things Keith has patience for; everything else Keith rushes through, impatient to finish. His teacher described him in his report card as "a very bright young boy and a fast learner! If he participated in class a bit more, he might feel more comfortable with his peers." Keith thinks the opposite. Getting everyone's attention on him would make him draw in more, not suddenly become a social butterfly.
Keith doesn't memorize any of the faces or names of his classmates, but Lance seems familiar. Maybe he's in his class?
"Wow! Is that a hippo? Awesome! Cool!" Lance excitedly gushes, stumbling over his words a bit. He punctuates his words with exclamations, a jittery ball of energy ready to burst. "Are you an artist? You're really good!"
Keith stares at him like he's grown another head. "…Good?"
Lance stares back hesitantly. "Yeah?"
"Everyone thinks my hippos look like cows," Keith admits quietly. "I'm not that good."
Lance scoffs. "Cows look way different than that! That's definitely a hippo. They don't know what they're talking about. I should know, every summer I go to my aunt's out in the middle of nowhere, and she has a ton of land, and there are these cows-" As Lance talks, his face lights up, his wide grin displaying blue braces. Keith listens intently, which is unusual. Usually when people talk for a long time, his mind wanders elsewhere, but Lance's rambling is engaging, from the way he waves his arms around dramatically to his facial expressions and wiggling eyebrows. Lance strikes Keith as a band kid or a theater kid.
The rest of the period, they sit and talk at the edge of the playground, under the comfortable shade of leaves, and they barely notice the bell signaling the end of recess and the other kids retreating to class. When a teacher calls for them to return, they walk back to class hand in hand. As they enter the same classroom, Keith notices Lance has been in Keith's class the entire time, sitting right in front of him. Huh. Maybe he should pay more attention in class.
"You're smiling!" exclaims Keith's mother when he opens the front door and trots into the kitchen.
Keith reaches up to touch his lips and realizes that they are curled in a wide smile.
"What happened in school that made you so happy, dear?" Keith's mother asks, tapping away at her sleek black laptop computer. Keith is about to say "nothing" like he always does, but then he remembers Lance's grin and stops.
"I have a friend, I think."
Keith's mother beams happily and pats Keith's head before returning to her work. Keith climbs up the stairs on all fours like an animal (his mother always scolds him for this, but he's too giddy to care) and collapses on his bed. He tightly hugs his hippo stuffed animal to his chest and wonders what his first friend has in store for him tomorrow.