So, What Pick-Up Line Actually Works On You?

Chapter Thirty-Three - "I'm as manly as you are, let's compare our stubble."

“You know, it isn’t right to pick on those smaller than you.” Rhys mused, while reaching out and feebly pushing me. I stumbled slightly, and I knew Rhys would no doubt be apologizing for that later.

Zack and Rhys grinned at each other, and I groaned internally.

“I’m Mark, if anyone cares. I’ll just go inside and do what I do best.” Mark snapped, showing the attitude that they all had. He turned around and ran inside, no doubt to make lots of noise. Two seconds later, a loud clanging came from the general area upstairs. I groaned internally again.

I hobbled inside, with Timmy still clutching onto my leg like a koala. I headed for the living room, sticking to the usual routine here. Rhys followed me, and Zack after him. I sat on the sofa, being careful not to hit Timmy’s head off the coffee table or something. Rhys sat next to me, and Zack sat opposite Rhys in a leather recliner.

“So, Timmy, do you want to watch a DVD?” I asked, inserting some cheeriness into my tone. Timmy thought about it for a second before pulling a cup of cold coffee off the table and pouring it down my jacket.

“No, piss off.” He snapped, and dug his teeth into the leg of my jeans. I gritted my teeth and ignored him. Zack started sniggering, and Rhys just sat there astounded. Stupid men.

“You tell her, Timmy.” Zack cheered, seeming proud of his brother for the first time so far. Timmy bit harder and started making growling noises. Who did he think he was, Tarzan or something? I picked up the television remote, and flicked it on, ignoring Timmy who was clawing at my leg too with his nails. Zack continued to encourage Timmy with whoops of joy, and Rhys was too engrossed in watching Timmy’s teeth work their way through my jeans.

“Have you finished now?” Rhys asked, peering down at Timmy curiously. Timmy glanced up at Rhys, and raised his eyebrows before continuing to bite me. “You know, she does have a huge cut on her leg that needed stitches, and you trying to eat her leg isn’t exactly going to help.” Rhys told Timmy, as he grabbed Timmy by the waist and picked him up. Timmy squealed and flailed his legs, smacking Rhys as he begged to be put down.

Hey, I do that too. If me and Timmy worked together, we could bring him down.

“If you don’t behave, I won’t tell you a story later.” Rhys warned, restricting Timmy’s legs with an arm. Timmy paused for a second before resuming the art of kicking the shit out of Rhys. Zack watched calmly from the chair, smirking at me. Mark was upstairs, screaming profanities at the Xbox. I was on the sofa wearing a soaking wet jacket and with a new hole in my jeans.

 I hated Tyson so much right now.

Timmy wiggled free from Rhys’s grip and belted him in the shin before running over to the coffee table and with a swift push knocked it sideways with a sharp clatter. Zack watched the chaos unfold from his chair smugly, and I swear to God, he might have looked like he pitied us for a second.

Rhys caught Timmy roughly, and shot me a look that said ‘holy fucking shit’.

Timmy became silent, and the whole room was hushed. The only noise was Mark upstairs as he cursed his way through a video game.

And then Timmy burst into tears and struggled out of Rhys’s arms. Rhys slackened his grip and Timmy toddled over to me, sobbing and wiping his nose on his sleeve, “Annie, I’m scared.” Timmy’s lip wobbled as he spoke and clambered up onto my lap, oblivious to the pool of cool coffee that had gathered there. “I want to watch a DVD and have a story and have the scary man leave.” Timmy snivelled, pointing at Rhys hesitantly.

Rhys stood there gaping at Timmy, and Zack was pulling an identical facial expression.

Two boys down, one more to go.