Roots
History Homework

"I wonder," Hunk said, sitting at Keith's desk as he and Lance waited for Keith to return from the infirmary. He tapped a pen from his pad against his chin.

Lance leaned back in his chair, his fingers playing with his box of cigarettes, never smoking where someone else would be on the receiving end of second-hand smoke. "You wonder what?"

"What historical figure should I write my essay on," Hunk said, placing the stylus pen across his lip and letting his lips form a pout.

"So, while it is about the new teacher, it's not you wondering about the new teacher," Lance said.

"Speaking of which," Hunk said, looking at Lance. "What do you think of him?"

"Don't know," Lance said. "We've had one too many so-called," he continued, doing air quotes as he said the word mentors, "who've simply wanted to take advantage of Keith." He stiffened, turning back to his study area and the photos of his family members as his arms crossed his chest, thinking about one teacher in particular who had never taken on the mentor role." He took a deep breath and said, "Adults are shitheads."

The door of the dorm room he shared with Keith opened up as that particular roommate stepped into the room. Keith glanced around warily. "What adult?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Lance said as Hunk let his eyebrows go up. "And how are you doing."

"Are we talking about the shithead who knocked me out and dragged me to the infirmary?" Keith asked, going and flopping onto the bottom bunk, even though he usually took the top. Lance shrugged the action off, knowing Keith was in one of his moods as one hand and a foot hung over the edge.

"Same one," Hunk said.

"That shithead had the audacity to ask if I was sexually active," Keith asked.

Lance nearly choked while Hunk turned to look at Keith, setting his pad and stylus on top of Keith's desk. "Well, aren't you? I mean, with Tamara?"

"None of that teacher's business, Hunk," Lance said, swallowing, knowing slightly more than their other friend. "What the bloody…"

Keith's eyes closed as the hand not dangling over the edge of his bed went up to twist into his dark locks, the corners of his mouth tightening. "Tamara was there."

"Oh," Hunk said, letting out a sigh. "That—I can get why he asked."

"Hunk!" Lance turned in his computer chair and glared at him. "That's not the point.

"Well," Hunk said. "Tamara really should cool it. I mean, what if he had walked in on you two—well, you know."

"That," Keith frowned, groaning. He pulled the pillow over his head. "Enough talking about the new history teacher.

"Yeah, but," Hunk said.

And then came the death glare from Keith, which said the topic was off limits, although Hunk was one of the few people Lance had never seen Keith lose it with, although Hunk did manage to be one of the few people who could bring Keith out of one of his serious moods. Lance frowned, his muscles tensing. "And so can that one teacher, it seems. Sort of. Hunk never KOs."

"Homework?" Hunk said.

"Ah. Yeah. What I missed."

"An assignment to," Lance started saying, going to his pad and flicking to the note, "to write an essay about a historical figure of your choice." Keith groaned as he said, "Hence Hunk's but there."

"Historical figure?" Keith said, his fingers tightening in his hair. His eyes then snapped open, and he pushed himself up.

Lance opened an eyebrow and opened his mouth before clearing his voice. "Keith. What are you thinking."

Keith grabbed the book bag he'd tossed beside the bed and pulled out his pad, flipping his finger across the screen, swiping and tapping as needed. And then, "So, how bloody and gory do you think I can get with this?"

"Keith," Lance leaned back in his chair. "Really. Don't. You don't know if he'll let that kind of thing pass."

"I mean," Hunk said, "That is a bit extreme of a thing to do, to see how long the teacher will last, right?"

"The sooner, the better," Keith said, frowning. "Thinking he can be all chummy."

"This is, you know," Lance said, sighing. "An extreme reaction for him asking about your sex life, particularly after you admit Tamara was up to no good."

"Oh," Keith said, not paying Lance any attention. "He said if he catches you smoking in front of him, that he'll take your cigarettes."

"What?" Lance felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "That jerk."

"So don't get caught."

"Of course, I won't. I'm not that stupid."

"He found where we were hiding," Keith said, working away on the pad. "But he honestly doesn't," and then Keith stopped speaking.

"Doesn't what?" Lance said.

"He had the fucking audacity to say he doesn't care so long as he doesn't catch you and have to act like an authority figure," Keith said, using finger quotes on the authority finger part, the pad dropping to his lap. "The audacity."

"Ah," Lance said, turning back to his pad. "That's why you're in a piss mood right now. He laid out some rules?"

"Yes. Typical," Keith said, picking the pad up.

"Well, what are they?" Lance said.

"Something about not dragging others into our mess, not doing anything that would get one of us hurt, and nothing that would result in him having to act as an authority figure, like taking your cigs. That's the example he gave. Oh, but pranks that don't negatively impact our classmates or get someone hurt are fine."

"Sound reasonable," Hunk said, still working on his homework at Keith's desk.

"As if," Keith said. "I really hate that ass hole."

"Yeah, well," Lance said, frowning at his friend and roommate. "I don't think your revenge is going to be the kind of revenge you think it is, just to let you know."

Keith ignored him while Hunk turned in Keith's computer chair. "What do you mean?"

"Well, this dude did say pranks were allowed," Lance said. "How else do you think he'll take it?"

"Well," Hunk started saying.

"Just because an adult says something doesn't make it true," Keith snapped. "And the adults who pretend to be your friend are the worst."

Lance sighed, "Are you really going to be handing that in tomorrow? As a project, I mean?"

Keith paused, then glanced up. "Well, no. I was hoping one of you could."

"What…" Lance narrowed his eyes. "You aren't thinking of skipping class tomorrow."

"No," Keith said. "The bastard told me he didn't expect me in class tomorrow, that I'm excused from classes." His hands tightened around the pad, drawing Lance's attention to the bandages on Keith's hands.

"So, a teacher told you to take the day off because you ended up in the infirmary?" Lance asked.

"I wouldn't have ended up in the infirmary if…" Keith started, then, "He fucking touched me. I told him not to fucking touch me again."

Lance let out a deep breath, remembering the lunchtime detention. "That." He rubbed the back of his head. "Now I'm getting the extreme reaction."

"You do?" Hunk asked. "Because I…"

Lance waved his hand, cutting him off, shaking his head, indicating the topic was off-limits, yet he wished it wasn't. He swallowed. "Even I don't trust adults enough that something like Keith getting kicked out would happen. He's been on the streets before, so…" Lance sighed. "You need someone to turn the bloody thing in?"

"Fuck yes."

"I'll do it," Hunk said. "Always better from me than Lance. "Just let me know when your little project is done, Keith."

Keith waved him off, too distracted by whatever he was writing in the essay, with Lance deciding he perhaps didn't want to know.