AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hello,” I say to them, spotting a few unfamiliar faces. “I’m Evan. Just Evan. Not Mr. Evan, or Mr. Wilcox, which is my last name.” I point at Harry. “He’s Harry… and if you’d like, you can call him Mr. Harry.”
A few kids chuckle, but most nod seriously, which means my dog might get called Mr. Harry by the time the day is through.
“Are you ready for your surfing lesson?” I say with a wide grin.
“Yes,” they singsong in unison excitedly.
Cute. “Harry and I can’t hear you. Are you ready for surfing?”
“Yes!” The excitement is through the roof this time, so I get them set up with safety gear and we head over to the water.
Time flies as the lesson proceeds, and the kids—and Harry—have a ton of fun.
One of the new students—a kid who reminds me of Macaulay Culkin from Home Alone but with long hair—walks over to me after the lesson is over and shuffles shyly from foot to foot.
“Hey, kid.” I open my water bottle. “You did great today. You’re a natural.” And I mean it. He didn’t drop in once, nor did he ditch his surfboard. He also listened to all the safety instructions patiently.
Harry also seems to like the kid because he wags his tail extra vigorously.
“Thank you,” the kid says politely, continuing to shuffle from foot to foot like it’s his job.
“Is there something on your mind?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “I have a personal question.”
“What’s up?” I take a sip from my bottle.
“Is it normal to grow hair down there?” He points at his crotch.
I almost choke on the water, but I don’t, thank fuck. Having an adult die after asking such a question would guarantee this kid life-long therapy. And full-body laser hair removal.
“That’s an interesting question,” I say. “Have you asked your dad about it?” Because his father seems like a better-qualified person to answer than some dude he just met.
The kid sighs. “My dad left before I was born. It’s just me and my mom, but I feel awkward asking her.”
Maybe a guy with a vasectomy shouldn’t judge and all, but his father sounds like an asshole. If, by some miracle, I did manage to get someone pregnant, I’d absolutely, positively stay in the child’s life. And said child wouldn’t even need to be as cute as this kid. They could be annoying and?—
“Never mind,” the kid says. “I’ll just?—”
“No, I was just thinking about the best way to answer,” I say. “How old are you?”
“Seven,” he says.
“And what’s your name?”
He smacks himself on the forehead. “Sorry. I’m new here. My name is Reagan.” He extends his little hand.
I shake the hand solemnly. “Okay, Reagan, here goes. Hair down there is normal, but it’s rare at your age. Usually, it grows later, but it’s all good. You’re just ahead of everyone else.”
The look of relief on his face tugs at something in my chest. “Thank you so much, Mr. Evan. At first, I thought it was normal, but then in the showers, I was the only one, so…”
“Understandable,” I say. “And please, call me Evan.”
“Okay,” he says. “Evan. Thank you.”
With that, he runs away—which causes Harry to look like he might give chase, but then he remembers his manners.
Cute kid. If that aforementioned pregnancy miracle were to come true, I’d want my child to be just like Reagan.
