World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

18.0

THE STALKERS

I stay there for a few moments, just looking at them. The tourist seems happy and that makes my heart feel weird. Maybe they are meant to be together. Maybe I was just the proof he needed to realize that the hottie is the one for him.

“I’m sorry,” the model rests her head on my shoulder.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” I mumble.

“Are you sad?”

“I’m pissed,” I admit, “But I don’t care.”

“Maybe they are just talking,” she lies.

“They wouldn’t be holding hands if they were just talking,” I cut her off, “Don’t be stupid.”

“I freaking hate that male version of JLO right now,” she tries to make me laugh.

“JLO’s bum is not even close to look as fine as his,” I pout, “Look at him. He is perfect. Oh, and I lied, I am sad.”

“Don’t be sad,” she hugs me, “Let’s throw a rock at them.”

“What the hell?” I ask but she is already looking for a rock on the floor, “Hey, stop.”

“This will work,” she grabs a bottle of beer and throws it at their direction, “They had it coming.”

“Oh my God, Cara!” we both hide behind a car and I start laughing out of nowhere.

“Idiota!” a random Brazilian guy yell at us.

“Do you think they saw us?” she keeps laughing and I do too.

“Thank you for this,” I turn to her, “I should be crying but I’m laughing instead.”

“We could throw something else,” she inspects the floor around us to find something.

“No, I’m fine,” I laugh, “Let’s just wait for them to leave and then let’s go watch The Notebook. I could use a cry.”

“No,” she insists, “Throw something. You’ll feel better.”

“I’m not going to do that,” she handles me a can of coke, “I’m not going to-”

“Do it!” she cuts me off and then she spies from a side to see if they are still there, “Do it now!”

“You are being stupid,” I laugh at her but I stand up and throw the can at them.

“Hey!” the hottie yells.

“Oh my God, I got him,” I whisper, “You are right, I feel better. Let’s do it again.”

“No,” she stops me, “It’s enough.”

“Just a small rock,” I put up a puppy face, “Please?”

“No,” she sounds determined, “We are going to get caught.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting deported. I wanna go home.”

“But let’s get deported for something better,” she takes a joint out of her purse, “This is more fun. Do you have a light?”

“No, I don’t smoke,” I laugh at her and a random guy passes by.

“Hey,” she calls him, “Do you have a lighter?”

“Não falo Inglês,” he answers.

“A lighter,” she speaks really slowly, “For this?” she shows him the joint.

“Hey,” I warn her, “We are going to end up in jail.”