Some Things Really Pay Off

Helping Out A Classmate (~Lovi~)

((A/N: Any suggestions for direction or topic are appreciated. This was a spur-of-the-moment idea and I'm not sure where to take this yet.))

I've seen him around school; he's popular and outgoing and loud and it would be impossible to not notice him. He's Spanish, a newcomer to the school. He's tall, tan, toned, and attractive (those are the words of the other people, not me of course). I think I heard people call him "Tony" before.

He's sitting on the side of a street speaking in fluent, rapid, energetic Spanish to a man next to him. I catch "Papá" and a few other words, but I don't speak the language. Italian is similar enough that if he were speaking slower I might be able to get the gist of the conversation, but he's speaking so fast I can't.

They have a cardboard sign, one that has imprints of cans on it and some spilled ketchup stains, and on it scribbled in Spanish and English reads "Homeless, anything helps/Son is in school".

I stop just out of earshot to think. Sebastian is temporarily in town, and he complains about having "too much" money and not knowing what to do with it.

I always feel bad passing homeless people, since I was in that place just a few short years ago. I always want to do something but can't because I don't even have half a penny on my person. We're not poor per se because Sebastian supports us, but we don't have any to spare ourselves.

I pull out my phone. I know the kid because of school, and I know he's talked almost half the school down from depression and suicide since he arrived. He's a good guy, not conceited.

I breathe and text Sebastian, "There's a kid from school just up the street who's homeless...he's talked half the school down from jumping. I don't have any money on me or anything to help him with."

"Give me two minutes."

"'Kay."

I drop my phone back in my pocket and look to see if I've been spotted. He's talking so animatedly that he's absorbed the attention of not only his dad but other passersby. They give him a dollar here, a quarter there, whatever they happen to have in their pocket. Sebastian is bound to give him far, far more than that. He has almost a trillion in savings and legitimately, outright bought our house. He could give them a billion and still have more than enough to skate by in style.

Three minutes pass, and Sebastian pulls up next to me in his sleek expensive car. He parks in the open parallel-parking spot and twirls to his feet, closes the door, and rounds the car to me. "Hey."

"Hey."

I nod that direction. "I think his name is Tony. He's the new kid from Spain. I haven't really talked to him before but he seems okay."

Now their attention is snagged. He's stopped talking to stare at Sebastian's fancy car and expensive business suit. Most people dressed like him would scoff, tell him to be less lazy, and drive off. But Sebastian is a sweetheart who made it from the bottom, and he's also been there for a lot of people who thought he would never look twice in their direction.

Sebastian tucks his custom checkbook in his pocket. "It's probably short for Antonio if he's Spanish. I doubt if he's from Spain he'd be named Tony. He might go by it as a nickname."

"Maybe. I don't know."

Sebastian picks up my hand tightly in his, turns, and walks their way. The crowds part around him like fish around a shark, overestimating his money and confidence to mean ignorance and judgment like many others before.

The teen gets to his feet. The man doesn't move.

We stop about half a foot from them. The teen moves around the sign and gives me a curious look. "I've seen you around school."