“Hi Babe,” he said deeply and charismatically, one shoulder leaning against the frame and his hand hooked onto his hip. He looked barely over 16 years old, still with a pimpled face but a body just emerging into its full masculinity.
Oh god, Kim thought. Here I am stuck at the bus stop and I have to deal with this.
“What’s your name?” he let his eyes wander up and down her body while he grinned from ear to ear. He didn’t even try to hide his leering.
“Ahhh, um, Kim.” She couldn’t help but be polite. She felt sorry for him yet uncomfortable and annoyed at the same time.
“Hi Kim. I’m Steve.” He leered at her. “I live on Watson Street.”
“Oh, that’s nice. What a nice place to live,” Kim tried to be as bland as possible. Why do we have to be so kind?
The bus stop, she noticed, was full of kids like him, but younger. Help would soon be on the way.
“Stevey, Stevey….”laughed a man, coming to her rescue. “We need to form a line over here, to wait for the bus. Please don’t bother this nice young woman.” And he gently swung Steve around by the shoulders while the man, the caregiver, mouthed an apology to her.