Pidge shifted in her seat as her father set down a pitcher of lemonade on the patio table. Lance made some remark or another and her father chuckled as he spoke. She couldn't listen in on their conversation – not when her heart thudded in her ears. She was moments away from exploding like an impending supernova.

It was her father's hand on her shoulder that snapped her out of her trance.

"Well, I'll leave you two to catch up." His voice was a tad too chipper. Never in her life had she wanted so badly for a wormhole to materialise beneath her.

Lance reached forward and poured a glass for her first. She mumbled a thank you and shifted herself further back into the wicker chair. His eyes were appraising her carefully, she could tell.

"So…Pidge?" She mentally winced at the name. Initially, it was something that only her brother had referred to her by, but somehow it had spread to the entire student population since middle school.

Then again, she'd probably not – or probably ever – have a restful night's sleep if he ever referred to her by her real name.

An envelope was pushed into her view and she sighed heavily. She didn't need to reach for them, she knew what exactly was in it.

"I can explain."

"Oh?"

God, she hated that tinge of amusement in his voice. A voice in the back of her mind noted how much deeper it was.

"It was- I was in a really bad place and- "

"Ay, Pidge. I don't think we're on the same wavelength here." She felt herself frown and lifted her head. He still looked amused, but mostly confused. Her eyes returned to the envelope on the table and she realised that it wasn't the pastel blue ones that she used for him. It was plain white with orange and black stripes running through the top. The prominent stamp with the twin "G" s told her it was, in fact, not a love letter.

"Is that…from the Garrison?"

"Yeah. I got through the first round of interviews for the junior pilots' program. The next stage isn't for another few months, but it has an aptitude testing component…"

She was only half-listening to him. He didn't get her letters?

"…And like, you're really a genius. I heard you were the first in our school to get into that cadet's program. Oh, wait. I think it was your brother? But he didn't go in the end, so I guess it's you now? You beat out competition from the entire country. That's mighty impressive…"

Then why was he here? Why was he spending his last day of summer here and not with his tongue down Jenny Shaybon's throat?

"…so, will you help me?" At that, Katie's head snapped up and a look of guilt must have settled over her features because Lance had a shy, knowing smile on his face.

Lance Serrano…shy? They must have found a way to genetically engineer flying pigs.

"Sorry, I ramble a lot, I know. Veronica said I need to cut it out if I'm going to the Garrison. The generals there aren't known to be patient."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I realized I forgot to do some summer homework…"

What kind of insane person thinks about homework when this gorgeous specimen of a man sat awkwardly on the patio of her childhood home? But Lance looked like he didn't believe her anyway, the boy had the good graces to let it slide. She bit her lip and forced herself to look him in the eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking…you sort of disappeared last year. I thought you were supposed to graduate."

"I did graduate. I'm taking a gap year." His voice petered off, and Katie could tell that he was about to say something else but had thought better of it.

"Oh." A small part of her wanted to prod him further, but a strange look had come over his eyes. The silence between them began to feel like a wall and Katie busied her restless fingers on drawing nondescript patterns on the condensation of her glass.

"So…you won't be going to school?"

"Oh, I'll be there. I'm working as a temp coach's assistant for the water polo team for the time being."

Another silence fell between them. This time, it wasn't as uncomfortable.

"You cut your hair." He noted, reaching forward to tuck a stray brown lock behind her ear. Her skin tinged pink.

"Yeah..."

Her hair was a little longer than it was in the start of the summer and the ends tickled her chin in a fluffy bob. She had decided to cut it when she went for the summer internship at the Garrison. It did bother her that people mistook her for a boy – with some even mistaking her for her six-foot-tall brother – but it felt like an assumed identity. It gave her a chance to be someone other than Pidge Holt, awkward teenage girl who avoided sports rallies and school dances.

"Pidge…I really don't want to put you on the spot, but will you help me? Only if you really want to." He added the last bit quickly. Katie would be lying if she said his request didn't boost her ego.

"With the admissions test? S-sure."

"Really?" The excitement in his voice and seeing his eyes brighten made her want to melt into a puddle.

"Really- oh!"

Lance had scooped her up into a hug that left her feet dangling. His arms – oh god were they so wonderfully strong around her – were tight around her waist and his lips brushed briefly across her forehead.

"I have to go pick up my niece from ballet. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

When he finally set her down, Katie's legs turned into linguini. Her fingers gripped the patio table as she shakily waved him goodbye.

"You'd have to drive yourself to school now Katie."

She winced at the thought and glumly stabbed at a meatball. It wasn't that she was a bad driver, she was too accustomed to an obliging brother who was more than willing to be her personal chauffeur to the point that she hadn't practised in a long time.

"Y'know, if you had a boyfriend, you probably wouldn't have to drive."

"Dad, really?"

Her father chuckled and leaned forward to fill her plate with more spaghetti. Matt had cooked up enough pasta sauce to last them for a month – at least her father can cook pasta.

"I'll just pool with Nadia." She was a girl that moved in next door only last year. Unlike Katie, Nadia Rizavi had no problems making friends. But she was genuinely nice to her and sometimes poked her head into the computer lab Katie practically lived in just to say hi.

"I'm just saying, sweetheart. You don't have to go through your last year of high school alone. No father wants his daughter holed up in her bedroom doing extra credit on weekends when she's already got a place in college. I should be drinking beer alone and watching some kind of sport on TV waiting for the boyfriend to get home so I can wave a rifle in his face. Give me that paternal experience Katie."

"You really want me out there? In the dangerous world getting myself into trouble?!"

"No, I want you to have an adolescence." He sighed and removed his glasses to clean them.

"When I was a boy, I was a lot like you. I hid in the library and just fixated on getting good grades. I didn't have many friends and well, an empty yearbook. If I hadn't met your mother in college…" His eyes softened then, and he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose – much like his daughter would.

"…I don't think I would have many friends, or a life to speak of. Uncle Iverson? If I hadn't met him…I don't think Matt and you would have been born. Your mother and I owe a lot to him."

"I get it dad. You and Matt want me to find a husband."

She smiled as her father chuckled out loud. Her father wasn't particularly a broody man, but it was a rare time she heard him laugh. Especially since her mother death.

"No sweetheart, I can't believe I'm saying this but, I just want you to go out and have fun. I'm sure your mother would want that for you too."

His voice had softened then, and he'd reached across the table to rest his hand over hers. Katie gave a reluctant squeeze in return.

"Speaking of which…Lance seems like a fine chap." Her cheeks burnt crimson, and she stood up abruptly.

"I'll go get the fruit salad."

Her father chuckled and stood as well, collecting the dirty plates to set them in the sink. A silence fell between them. Colleen Holt's soft humming as she served dessert usually filled the space.

"Do you still like him Katie?" His voice was carefully soft. He was trying hard to be like her mother and she felt guilty for avoiding him for that.

"Maybe. I don't know. Probably not."

"He seems to have taken a shine on you."

"It's not like that dad, he's just friendly to everyone." Her father raised an eyebrow at that, but he returned to the dishes.

"Well, he's got a good head on those shoulders. He'll be a good man, like his late father."

"Late?"

Her hand froze mid-scoop and her father turned to her. Katie briefly remembered rumours about Mr Serrano's illness, but she didn't think it would be that serious.

"Oh, right. You were away on the internship. His father passed away a few weeks ago."

Her heart stopped.

Mr Serrano was known as one of the kindest men in the sprawling suburbs of Altea. Not one resident didn't know the cheery, warm man that always had time to help a neighbour in need. Katie herself had adored him – he'd been the one to lend a listening ear when she was bullied freshman year.

She had to be the biggest asshole on the planet.

The first day of school was as ordinary as it was onerous. The gossip and drama were something out of an Austen novel; a few new relationships were announced, several others broken over the summer and scandals by the means of students transferring to their rival school – the Galran Academy. Then there was a handsome new suitor student who seemed to compete with the statue of Alfor by the gates on how stoic they can look and a new assistant coach to the water polo team that sent the girls (and some guys) to a frenzy.

Katie didn't want any part in it.

Only a certain crop of students attended Altea High School for Science and Technology. But even then, their school didn't escape the usual tropes of high school. Admittedly, it can be worse when the jocks were both intelligent and athletically inclined; being a nerd in a nerd school just made you one of many.

But that fact truly never bothered Katie. She was comfortable with her technical abilities and didn't think herself less for not taking up a sport. Her hyper-fixation with her niche was her strength and she had no issues wearing that reputation proudly.

The one thing that did nag at her at the time, was that she just wanted a friend.

It was only till Junior year did she find her supposed "pack" with Romelle and Allura. Nadia was somewhat a friend, if not at least a close acquaintance she could depend on with their close living proximities. Be it a homework buddy, a gaming partner or even someone to bounce off ideas on late in the night through their adjacent bedroom windows.

Pidge will have to add car pool buddy to that list; a soft emphasis on "pool".

She walked towards her car alongside Nadia who gesticulated wildly as she explained a quantum physics assignment. As she rummaged her backpack for her car keys, she squeaked as a certain tall young man descended the steps of the building to the car park – easily maneuvering his way through his crowd of admirers and offering a wink or two at a swooning bunch. His eyes were searching the crowds and finally, they locked with hers.

She'd managed to avoid him all day with great success. She wasn't going to fail now.

"Nadia, we need to run. Can you drive again please?"

"Hey Pidge, you're going to have to drive yourself at some point. I'm not going to be like Matt. That boy spoiled you too much." She'd said with mock-mothering tone waving a finger at her.

"Ugh, fine! But if I dent your car, I'm not liable."

The urgency in her voice made the girl raise her brow but she shrugged and belted herself to her seat as Katie frantically started the engine.

Pidge gripped the steering wheel of her car as she settled her thoughts.

Sure, it's been an entire year since she'd even sat on the driver's seat - the last time being when she took her driver's test – but how hard can it be? She'd consumed the Garrison's exhaustive collection of flight manuals within three days. A sedan was nothing compared to a jet.

She took in a deep breath and adjusted the rear-view mirror, her leg jerking out on the peddle as a certain someone panned into view. She yelped and hit the brakes, Nadia looking over to her in concern.

"I'm dead."

"You're fine. Though you do realise the entire point of having a rear-view mirror is, so you don't hit a pedestrian?"

Katie didn't have time to scowl at her. He was already making his way to the driver's window. She expected him, but her body jumped as he knocked on the glass. As the window slowly slid open, his handsome face came into view.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Her eyes were trained forward, her back a little too straight. She felt him smirk to her side. She can just imagine those blue eyes tingling with mischief.

"Around these parts, we check behind to make sure there aren't people walking by before backing out. So, you don't kill people, y'know? That's what these mirrors are for missy." He had pianist fingers, she remembered then, as she watched him point to the mirrors. Long and elegant.

It was his cough that brought her eyes back up to his.

"Oh – um, I'm sorry 'bout that."

"Think you'll make it out without a body count?"

"Yeah, I will." Katie's voice had gone uncharacteristically high at this point and if it weren't for the seatbelt, Nadia would have fallen out of her seat from holding back her laughs. She threw a glare to her uncooperative passenger and turned to Lance, avoiding his eyes. His lean figure leaned against the car, his sinewy forearms rested casually on the window's open edge. She forced herself not to stare at the veins on his forearms. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace them over his caramel skin.

"You should…go." She tried to ignore the little twinge of guilt in her chest, but Lance had looked more amused than anything.

"Sure! Whatever you say Pidgey. Hey Rizavi? You're in charge."

Nadia's eyebrow raised, and a grin split across her face as she returned Lance's finger guns. As Lance sauntered away, Katie slammed the button to roll up her windows and the car filled with her friend's cackles.

"Lance Serrano, huh? I thought that Shaybon chic ate him alive last year."

Katie rolled her eyes and set the car to park. She was in no condition to drive now – her heart was racing, and she was seeing double.

"So…what are we waiting for Kat?"

"We're waiting until the statistical probability of me hitting another person is zero."

"Oh quiznack."