Zachary felt the difference when he was on the bus to meet Emily and her race car driver friend the morning after the match. People were doing that thing where he would glance their way, and they would pretend they hadn't been looking at him. When he would look away and focus on the passing scenery outside the bus window, he would again feel their gazes locked on him. The situation within the bus remained awkward for a while until one brave blonde-haired kid, probably an 11 to 13 years-old-male, walked up to his seat and tapped his arm.
"Hello, Mister," the kid said, looking up at his face with puppy eyes.
"Yes, hello, young man," Zachary replied, inclining his head slightly and flashing the kid a toothy grin. He could see that the kid was fidgeting and didn't want to frighten him. "How may I help you?" He asked, making sure to keep his voice as soft and gentle as possible.
