World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

52.0

“Me too,” I sigh, “Listen, mom. There’s a reason why I’m calling you.”

“I think I already know what it is,” she confesses, “But I’m not sure.”

“What?” I freak out.

“Is it about the video?” she asks after a short pause of a killer silence.

“Shit,” I mumble.

“Harold! Don’t curse,” she raises her voice.

“Sorry,” I chuckle, “You’ve seen it?”

“Yes, I have,” she says with no emotion, leaving no hint for me to guess how she feels about it.

“Well,” my hands are starting to shake.

“And I’m freaking out about it,” she continues and I just shut my eyes closed because I’m not ready to get rejected by my own mother.

“Your hair, Harry,” she says, “I can’t believe how long your hair is.” What the hell?

“Mom?”

“You promised you would get a haircut before leaving and now this video comes and I find out that you’ve been lying to me,” she rants, “You are starting to look like a homeless. You need to get a haircut as soon as possible or I’ll be very mad at you.”

“Mom, my hair looks awesome,” I laugh nervously, “Is this seriously all you have to say about the video?”

“I just needed to get it out of my system. I was so ashamed when I saw it, Harry. All those curls flying around everywhere,” she sighs, “I’m starting to get mad again. You know what your grandma said to me when she saw the video?”

“What? Grandma saw the video?” I freak out even more.

“Of course she saw it, I posted it on my Facebook Page,” she informs me, “60 likes and counting. I don’t think I have ever received so many likes in any of my posts before.”

“Mom? What video are you talking about? I’m completely lost.”

“The one at the station,” she answers, “Where you are kissing Louis.”

“Wait, I need a moment,” I cover the phone’s mic with my right hand and I turn to whisper something to the tourist, “I have no idea of what is happening. This is madness.”

“Is Louis there with you?” my mother asks, “Say to him. Hi Louis,” she raises her voice.

“How do you even know his name? Mom, I,” I stay in silence, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Start by explaining why haven’t I heard from him yet,” she says accusingly, “I Googled him.”

“You Googled him? What?”

“Yes, someone left a comment under the video on YouTube saying ‘That’s Louis Tomlinson, he is a football player!’ so I Googled him,” I can tell she is doing something else while we are having this conversation, which tells me she is not giving the right amount of importance to the matter. Again: What the hell?

“Mom,” I breathe in and out, “Are you seriously going to pretend like this is not a big deal?”

“It is a big deal!” she practically yells, “You are dating someone and I find out by the Internet? How is that possible?”

“You do understand why it was hard for me to tell you, right?”

“Is he your boyfriend? Because I told everyone that he is. Please say he is not just a one night stand.”

“Mom, I might need to dismiss this call because I have no idea of what is happening.”

“Answer my question,” she insists, “Boyfriend or one night stand?”

“Boyfriend,” I frown.

“Good, honey,” she laughs, “He is very good looking.”

“Thanks?” I shake my head to the tourist, who looks as confused as I am. “Why did you post the video on Facebook? Now everyone knows about this and I’m not even sure if I’m ready for that.”

“I wasn’t going to admit that you were hiding something this big from me so I decided to act cool about it,” she explains, “They showed it on the local news anyways. People didn’t watch it just because of me.”

“Mom,” I sigh.

“What is it, honey?”

“Why aren’t you asking for an explanation?” I ask with a small voice.

“I don’t need one.”

“But you know what this means, right?” I lower my voice as much as I can, “It means I’m gay.”

“Oh, Harry,” she laughs so hard that it’s almost disrespectful.

“What are you laughing at?”

“I knew you were gay ever since you were five!”

“What?!”

“Remember when we watched Toy Story? Well, you didn’t exactly ask for a Woody or a Buzz doll,” she tries to hide her laugh from me, “That’s pretty much how I found out.”

“What? I wanted Buzz! I even got a Buzz, I still have a Buzz!”

“No, honey,” she is still trying not to make her amusement look so obvious, “You asked for a Jessie doll.”

“What?!”

Just for the record: I did not ask for a Jessie doll so don’t listen to some woman’s outrageous accusations. That’s a freaking lie!

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