"Are you serious? No way!"
"No, it's true! I saw who was calling, so I answered the phone, changed my voice, and said, 'Luke, I am your father.' Then I just kept throwing out Star Wars quotes until he hung up."
Thierry rolled his eyes, listening to Laurent's story for at least the sixth time. Marie stared at him with rapt attention, stifling a giggle. Laurent wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close, and looked around the rest of the group. Thierry quirked an eyebrow at him, and Laurent grinned.
On Marie's other side, Leïla cocked her head in confusion. "Why waste their time like that?" she wondered. "If you weren't going to talk to them, you could have just hung up."
Laurent scoffed. "They're telemarketers – that's the only people who call landlines anymore. So I just… messed with them a little."
"They have to make a living too, though," Leïla pointed out.
"So, maybe they need to find a different way to do it," Laurent told her, quirking an eyebrow.
"Well I think it was funny," Marie declared, looking up at Laurent and humming.
Sophie made a face. "You would think that's funny," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Laurent grinned. "What can I say?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm a funny guy!"
Thierry snorted into his hand, just as an all-too-familiar voice called out from the far side of the Trocadéro. His breath caught in his throat.
"Hey! Boy! The hell are you doing here?"
Thierry's heart sank. Leïla and Marie both cocked their heads in confusion, looking around the park for the source of the voice. Sophie jumped, nearly spilling her drink. Thierry tensed, his jaw clenched, and resisted the urge to close his eyes, to pretend he wasn't here. Sitting opposite him, Leïla's eyes widened in surprise on spotting something behind Thierry. Laurent's mouth came open slightly, and he glanced at Thierry with a nervous look. Thierry gulped and turned around to follow her gaze. At once he spotted the man stalking across the park, making a beeline straight toward their group. "Hello, Father."
"I was expecting you to be home an hour ago," his father growled, stopping in front of Thierry and rattling the bag in his hand. "You were supposed to pick this up and then be right back home. But then I finally get tired of waiting and walk down to the store to find out what happened to you, and I hear that you never even showed up!?" He glared at Thierry, gesturing toward the snacks between them. "I take it that this is what my money went to?" He kicked a bag of cookies over and stomped on it. Sophie jumped, her eyes widening even further. Marie flinched, practically melting into Laurent's side as Laurent's arm tightened around her. Thierry's father's eyes flashed, glaring at Thierry without blinking. "You waste my money on sweets, boy?"
Thierry reached into his pocket. "N–no, sir," he managed. "I didn't–"
"I don't want to hear your excuses, boy!" His father towered over him, arms folded. His voice took on a dark tone. "You are coming home right this instant, and I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget."
Not again… How many times had it happened? His father would get it into his head that whatever Thierry did just wasn't good enough, and there was nothing he could do to dissuade him. And in front of his friends, too! The only mercy was that if his father was here, then at least he wasn't home with his mother. Thierry's breathing hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His fist clenched around the bills in his pocket. Slowly, he started to stand up. He swallowed. He had to go with him – what other choice did he have. His stomach churned uncomfortably. He was a superhero! He was the Owl! He had stood up to supervillains and criminals; why couldn't he stand up to his own father? And yet, when he looked up into his father's rage-filled face, he lost the ability to breath, to think, to do anything but obey.
Maybe he really was as weak as his father thought.
"He didn't buy the cookies."
Thierry froze, his breath caught in his throat, staring at Leïla, who stood on the other side of the group, looking up at his father with a calm expression on her face. His father furrowed his brows looking at her in confusion.
"What?"
Leïla swallowed but didn't look away. "I said, Thierry didn't buy the cookies. I brought them. You don't need to yell at Thierry. He didn't do anything wrong."
His father scoffed. "You. The bougnoule." Leïla flinched. Thierry's breathing hitched. His father sneered at her. "You're going to stand there and defend my worthless son? Please. It's because of people like you that I'm out of a job and we can barely make ends meet, and you're going to talk back to me?" He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "I should give you exactly what people like you should get, coming into my country and trying to mess it up the way you do," he seethed, suddenly grabbing Leïla's hijab and ripping it off of her head. With a gasp, Leïla dropped to the ground, covering her head with her hands, and turned away from him.
"Leave her alone!" Thierry surged to his feet, his eyes flashing with fury, and shoved his father backward by both shoulders. His father stumbled slightly, his bag clanking at his side. Thierry stalked after him, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You're going to leave my friends alone!" he growled, his fists clenched at his sides.
His father glared back at him, opening and closing his fist. "You dare lay a hand on me, boy?" He stepped forward, right up into Thierry's face. Thierry coughed, smelling his breath. "You would defend this bougnoule bitch?" He lifted his hands and pushed Thierry on both shoulders.
Thierry ducked under his father's hands and threw his shoulder into his father's chest. His father grunted in shock, and Thierry drove all his weight into his gut, knocking his father backward. His foot caught on the edge of the sidewalk and his arms flew out in a vain attempt to keep his balance, but too late. He fell to the ground with a hard thud, and Thierry stepped one foot forward to catch himself, glaring down at his father. "You will not speak to my friend that way!" he shouted. "You can say what you want to me, but you will leave my friends out of it! Do you hear me? Leave my friends alone!"
Thierry's father stared up at him in shock, blinking dumbly. His mouth opened and shut several times, but no sound came out. Until finally, slowly, he backed away on his hands before standing up and walking away from them.
Thierry let out a breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and watched until his father had left the park. Turning around he glanced down to find Leïla kneeling where she had fallen, her hijab back in place. Marie and Sophie both had a hand on her shoulder. Thierry's stomach clenched, and he paused hesitantly, kneeling beside her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, swallowing anxiously. "I'm sorry he did that to you – I swear I didn't see anything."
Leïla looked up at him, her eyes wide in surprise. "You're sorry? He's the one who should be sorry, not you. He was completely out of line. You stood up for yourself. For all of us." Her mouth set in a thin line. "You have no reason to be sorry. Ever."
