World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

55.0

THE MINOR

“Sixteen?” I choke on my own words.

“Ansel’s mother and I were starting to freak out after a while of not being able to find him,” the man says as he squeezes his minor son’s shoulder, “But, luckily, you helped him get to the hotel safe before we got the police involved.”

“The police?” I stutter and now I just start coughing so hard that I’m struggling to find air to breathe so the tourist slaps my back several times in a attempt to help me get my composure back. This is awkward.

“We all like to think Harry as a superhero, sir,” the obnoxious model says.

“Excuse him, he’s got the flu and he won’t stop coughing since yesterday,” my back’s slapper explains.

“I just wanted to thank you,” the man continues, “If you don’t have plans tonight, dinner at the hotel restaurant is on me.”

“Dad,” the cutie seems as nervous as I am, “There’s no need for that. I’m sure they have plans already.”

“We don’t actually, we are absolutely free tonight,” the eyebrows monster does it again.

“Free as birds,” my ex boyfriend adds and, by the stupid smirk on his and his ally’s face I can tell that they are just doing it to make fun of me. I can’t believe those two daring to plot against their leader. I like… invented them.

“Great then,” the cutie’s dad smiles, “Unfortunately, my wife and I won’t be able to join you but I’ll make all the arrangements.”

“I can be there!” the cutie says, “I mean, If you don’t mind, of course,” he looks at me.

“It’s probably going to be boring for them to hang out with a 16 year old, Ansel.”

“Oh no, sir,” the Tyra Banks wannabe opens her big mouth, “Harry just loves,” she drags the L word as much as she can, “Hanging out with sixteen year olds.”

“Does he?” the man raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” the tourist gives the model an awkward stare, “Harry teaches in High School. He is really good with kids.”

“Isn’t he, Ansel?” I can’t believe the bitch; she’ll pay for this.

“Um,” the minor coughs nervously, “I… Harry was very helpful.”

“You teach?”

“I do, sir,” I answer and my words are finally flowing normally again.

“What do you teach?”

“Math,” says the tourist.

“Anatomy,” answers the model at the same time and I just feel like choking her right now.

“They know nothing bout me, sir,” I explain, “I teach Literature but I’m only a substitute actually.”

“That’s very interesting, Harry,” he nods, “Ansel here loves to read. What’s the name of the book you’ve been reading these past few days, Ansie?”

“Ansie?” the tourist midget mumbles and I can tell he is making a huge effort not to laugh.

“Um,” Ansie starts but his father’s ringing phone interrupts him.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” the man excuses himself as he walks a few steps away from us.

“So what you reading, Ansie?” the talking eyebrow makes fun of the kid, “50 shades of Grey I bet,” she mumbles.