Survival [TharnType]

Chapter 3

See you soon Type, I love you too.

Type smiled at the message from his fiancé. Around him, the flat seemed large and empty. He turned on the TV to cut the stifling silence. He was not working today. He took advantage of his day to tidy up, do some shopping for the week and catch up on the last football match he had missed. 

He then spent the rest of the evening playing online video games. It was only around midnight that he decided to go to bed. The two weeks with the children were about to begin, and he knew he had a long day ahead of him. 

When he reached for his phone, he saw a message from Tharn, wishing him a good night, and reassuring him that they had arrived at their destination. He replied with a smile. 

Another message appeared on the screen. A number he did not know. 

I missed you

He ignored her. Surely someone had made a mistake, and would realise it alone. That night he kept turning over in bed. He usually rolled up against Tharn to sleep, or had his fiancé's body behind his back to keep him warm. He had some trouble finding a comfortable position. Sleep got the better of him, and he closed his eyes, wishing that these two weeks would pass more quickly. 

Phone in hand, he walked quietly down the street, music blaring in his ears. The weather was good, he was going to have a good day at work, he could feel it. Tharn had sent him a message that morning, with photos of the hotel room where they would be staying for a few days.

A vibration caught his attention. Another message from the same unknown number.

It's not very nice to ignore me

Type hesitated for a moment to answer, but decided to ignore it again. He felt a little bad for this person, but didn't want to get involved in any trouble.

When he arrived at the football field, he saw two children already playing. He went towards the mother, whom he knew well.

- Sawadee.

- Sawadee Nong Type ! I'll leave the boys to you, I'll be late.

- Are you picking them up tonight?

- No, it will be Win's mother.

They greeted each other one last time, she said goodbye to her son, Bright, and left. Type put the boys to work, while letting them play, to prepare the lesson.

As he counted the balloons, he felt two arms grabbing his leg. He looked down to see Win, his head buried against his thigh, whimpering.

- What's going on?

He gently pushed the child back to his level, while tenderly stroking his hair.

- Bright is annoying me!

The crying increased in intensity. Not so far away, Bright was pouting, but you could clearly see his concern in his eyes. These two neighbours were always together, and they cared a lot for each other.

The dark-haired boy approached, waddling from one leg to the other, uncomfortable with having made his friend cry.

- Do you want to come and score goals?

All of Win's sadness vanished at once. He left happily with his friend, to go back to play. Type smiled when he saw them. He would never admit it, but he really enjoyed working with children. He was never bored!

The football lessons went on, the ages always different. He had to adopt learning strategies for each group, from children who had to learn how to shoot the ball without falling, to teenagers who wanted to learn how to dribble and make headers.