The lad took another step forward, closing-in tight enough that he was almost nose to nose with Andrew. The stench of stale beer permeated the young man’s breath. “Don’t think you understand me, mate. You’re going to buy me some fags because you like me.”
Andrew took a step backwards, reclaiming some of his personal space. He attempted to laugh, but it came out an asphyxiated splutter. “I-I…I don’t think so, mate. Get your own bloody cigarettes, okay?”
The lad took another step forward. This time he snarled right in Andrew’s face. “Listen, you cunt. If you get back from that shop without my cigarettes, your head is going to hit this cement. You get me?”
Andrew tumbled backwards under what could only have been utter shock. Such threats and brutish behaviour were well beyond his comprehension and experience. Yet it was happening to him right now. He was furious, livid, that this wretched little thug felt he had any right to threaten him this way...
But he also felt sick. His body trembled and his knees felt weak. Instead of standing up for himself, all Andrew did was walk away, his head down, his mouth closed, his pride shattered. The word ‘prick’ floated after him as he retreated, uttered by a female voice. He continued walking and didn’t turn back. A numb kind of disbelief had washed over him and the feeling in his stomach was like a white-hot poker thudding against his ribs.
It was a good five minutes before Andrew regained any sort of control over his senses, but by that time he was already several hundred yards away from the gang of teenagers. In fact he was almost at the small row of shops that marked his destination. Mickey’s chip shop was just up ahead.
Andrew shook his head in disbelief. I can’t believe that thug spoke to me like that. How dare he threaten me! Who the hell does he think he is? To think I was sticking up for those bloody kids not thirty minutes ago… Andrew scratched at the stubble on his chin and hissed at the night. Pen was right. They are all a bunch of troublemakers.
Andrew crossed the road and headed into the chip shop, determined not to let the nasty exchange affect him a minute longer than it already had. Inside was a member of staff that he recognised: a young, blond girl that had served him several times before. They’d never spoken in a personal way but she always had a warm smile for him whenever he brought food there. Tonight was no exception and he felt a little less angry as the girl showed her usual politeness by welcoming him in from the cold with a smile.
At least not all teenagers are bad. Some still have manners. This girl, and my daughter, for instance. I’d go mad if Bex behaved like those thugs.
He quickly placed an order for his and Penelope’s food, as well as Bex’s – salt, no vinegar – before standing aside and warming himself on the shop’s hot, metal counter. His entire body seemed to unload its weight onto his elbows as he leaned, like he’d been fighting off the urge to fall down this whole time without realising it. The amount of anger he felt threatened to take over him, yet he felt strangely vacant at the same time. It was as if the encounter with the gang of teenagers had sent him into some sort of a daze.
You still have to walk back past them to get home…
The thought caused another wave of nausea to crash through his system. What the hell should I do? I’m not going to let them scare me into not walking the street outside my own bloody house. Andrew sighed and rubbed at his eyes. I should have said something at the time – stood up to them. Bet they’re a bunch of cowards against anyone who gives as good as they get.
Andrew made a decision. That’s it! That’s what I’ll do. I’m going to stand up to the little swine and his gawking buddies. See how big he is then. I’m not going to let the little shit scare me.
“-ful they’re hot.”
Andrew looked up from the counter. “Huh?”
The blond girl nodded to a plastic bag on the counter in front of him. “I said, careful they’re hot.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Was miles away then.”