Tenth Knot

1.

I hate second hand embarrassment. I've stopped watching shows and movies not to have to go through it. I never watch reality TV because of it.

As a general rule, I try to stay as far away from it as much as possible.

So anyone would understand how annoyed I am, at the moment.

"Miller, I beg of you, chill," I tell my brother who's about to jump up and down on his seat.

My father got good seat tickets for a Raptor's game. I should have let him go with my brother. I should have stayed home with Mom.

I have become shame.

            "But you don't get it! It's Drake," Miller says, excited.

            "We're at a Raptor's game. Are you seriously surprised?"

            My brother just ignores me and sort of shakes his hands, palms up towards where the rapper is standing, courtside, and just whines, "Draaaake."

People are looking our way. I can feel it. We've become free entertainment.

I cover my face with my palms and make a pained sound in the back of my throat. "Fortheloveofgod."

            The dude sitting beside me chuckles. I peek at him through my fingers and glare at him.

            He's wearing a cap during a basketball game. I don't understand it. For one thing, we are indoors therefore the purpose of the cap—to cast shadow over your eyes and be less blinded by the sun—is moot. Also, to me it's just bad etiquette to keep your hat indoors.

I keep this to myself though. He's cute. Like, really cute. Like hot. But that doesn't matter because he's got no manners and he's laughing at my pain.

He sees that I'm glaring at him, and presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing.

My brother literally squeals beside me. The dude snorts a laugh, trying very hard to keep it in.

"I'm sorry about him, he doesn't go out much," I tell this random stranger. In my head I'm getting up and leaving this place and hiding in the bathroom and never ever coming out. People are looking at us. I mean, I think they are. I feel like they are.

I HATE MY LIFE.

"No, no, I go out. You don't go out, that's why you have zero reaction over the fact that motherfucking Drake is like twenty feet from us," my brother explains.

I blink very slowly to calm myself. "Once again, I apologize for my brother," I repeat to the stranger.

But now, the other guys sitting on the other side of him are laughing too.

I think they all came together. They were chatting together earlier.

"Don't worry about it, you shouldn't judge people's enthusiasm," he replies. He has a bit of an accent and a nice deep voice.

If it wasn't for the fact that my brother is making me live my worse nightmare, I probably wouldn't be talking with this dude, but I need a distraction of any kind. It's like hiding under a blanket while there's an embarrassing moment on a TV show. It doesn't stop the embarrassing moment, but at least I can hide from it. 

"You're a better person than me. I'm thinking of ways of putting him up for adoption after this," I tell him, and that makes the stranger smile.

"Can't do that you killjoy, I'm almost eighteen now," my brother replies, apparently not squealing loud enough to not hear me bitch.