World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

7.0

“I’m not sure I’m buying this story.”

“Well, it’s the truth so buy it. You fell asleep a few minutes later and I was tired as hell so I thought, Why the hell no? I got rid of my dirty clothes and I decided to take a short nap.”

“A short nap,” I mock him. I’m so pissed.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“No. I’m still not sure of what you’ve done to me.”

“I did nothing, you were a dead body. Like a vegetable,” he laughs again, “Here, take an aspirin,” he handles me a pill.

“Yeah, right,” I walk away, “Like I’m going to take a pill from you. It’s probably another drug to keep me asleep so you can do stuff to my body.”

“Whatever. You are not that big of a deal so stop being a stupid arrogant.”

I walk to the mini fridge and empty a bottle of water in less than a minute. I sit down at the sofa and I close my eyes because the headache I have is killing me.

“Look at the macho man. You can’t even handle a hangover,” he teases me.

“Can you shut up?” I yell at him.

“I told you the dude was straight. What did you think? That you would have turned him gay or something?”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” I keep my eyes closed because I seriously cannot handle the light. I suddenly feel something cold approaching my hand and I freak out.

“Put some ice there, that looks bad,” the tourist is right in front of me with some ice inside one of my socks.

I do as he says and I grab the thing from his hands, “Why didn’t you just go to your hotel? Why did you have to stay here?”

“Because I have no hotel,” he laughs. Why does he laugh so much?

“How can you people come to a country you don’t even know and not have a hotel? Who does that?”

“Poor people does that,” I can tell he is inside the bathroom because his voice sounds lower. I like it better at that volume, “It’s way more fun, you know? I’m not going to lie though. An Ibis? This is fancy.”

“Where would you be if you didn’t find me? You should be the one thanking me not the other way around,” I know I’m right about that. He’d be sleeping at a train station if it weren’t for me.

“I was with a guy. He told me I could stay at his place but I left him to come to your rescue,” he sighs, “He was so good looking. One of those guys that make you thank God because he made you gay, you know?”

“I don’t need so much information,” I cut him off.

“Can I borrow a shirt from you? I’m kind of cold,” he asks and I open my eyes to stare at him. He is checking the closet and my eyes land on his butt again. Fine, so so fine. “Hey!” he turns around, “Stop staring at my bum. Now I’m the one who feels raped.”

“I wasn’t staring at your butt.”

“Yes, you were,” he sticks his tongue out, “But don’t worry. I know what I have going on back there. You can stare but you can’t touch.”

“You’d pay me to touch you,” I close my eyes again.

“Whatever you say. Can I borrow a shirt or not?”

“Yes, do whatever you want and please shut up,” I beg him.

I wake up two hours later. I don’t even know how that happened but I just fell asleep on the couch. I look around and the tourist isn’t there. Finally, he left. I run to my wallet to see if he didn’t steal anything but everything is there. I freak out when I can’t find my cellphone. “That idiot stole my phone!”

“No, I didn’t,” he scares the hell out of me as he enters the room with a paper bag.

“What are you doing here again?”

“Here’s your phone, bubu.”

“Oh,” I take it from his hand, “Bubu? What?”

“I can’t keep calling you homo, you know?”

“Why don’t you just call me Harry then? Or you know what? Better don’t call me anything and leave already, would you?”

“Nah,” he opens the bag and I can smell food coming out from there. I’d kill for something to eat, “I’d rather call you Bubu. It’s cooler.”

“Whatever,” I walk to the bathroom.

“Chicken or Beef?”

“What?” I ask when I come back to the bedroom.

“I brought two sandwiches. One is chicken with cheddar and the other is beef with veggies. I don’t mind either so you pick.”

I’m too hungry to even say anything about it. I’d rather have him gone but I need to eat something before I faint, “Beef,” I sit by the table and hurry to start eating the sandwich. The tourist walks to the fridge and grabs a coke, “Did you even ask me if you could grab something from there?” I can’t believe how rude he is.

“Whatever,” he takes a long sip from the can, “You are rich so what do you care?”

I just keep my focus on my food and don’t mind replying to him. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m too hangovered and hungry or not but this sandwich is the best sandwich I ever had in my whole life.

“Good, huh?” he talks with his mouth full. Gross. “When are you heading back to Rio?”

“At five pm.”

“Tam Airlines?” he smiles and I don’t even know why.

“Yes,” I stare at him, “Why?”

“Destiny keeps insisting on bringing us together, Bubu. I’m on the same flight.”

Shit. Stupid me thinking I was going to get rid of him anytime soon.