12 years old

Anthony had really started to look forward to the summer holidays. He and Aziraphale exchanged some postcards throughout the rest of the year and made sure that their parents kept their promise to align their stay in France at the same resort. Anthony’s parents were especially glad that he made a friend since he seemed to have difficulties making and keeping friends back home. 

Aziraphale’s parents knew that their son liked his alone-time, but he got along with his siblings just fine and they spend a lot of time together. They weren’t particularly fond of Anthony and his parents (for a multitude of reasons, a few of them being that they were not religious, Anthony’s father was a very well known politician and they let their kid run wild in the resort), but they were set in their ways of spending two weeks a year in France anyway so they allowed it.

This year, Anthony managed to pack two enormous Super Soakers and his parents weren’t very pleased to find out that he dumped most of his clothes out of his suitcase so that he could fit the huge water pistols inside.

Aziraphale eyed them curiously, but also cautiously when Anthony brought them over to the pool. The ginger boy seemed to be very proud of his accomplishment when he told Aziraphale all about how he snuck them inside his suitcase and of course they had to play with them as much as they could.

Aziraphale squeaked the first time that the cold water hit him and Anthony was sensible enough to make a run for it right away, but not without laughing loudly. Aziraphale followed him but lost sight of him quite quickly. He usually preferred not to engage in psychical activity, even though Anthony forced him to do so most of the time, and it showed. 

His friend could run a lot faster and longer on those lanky legs of his. Anthony did a lot of sports, but only sports he could do on his own. His parents made him join all kinds of clubs just so he could get rid of his nervous energy, but he wasn't a good team player at all.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Anthony ran around a big planter with a small palm tree, ready to strike. “Gotcha again!” he called out while squirting his victim with cold water.

But it wasn’t Aziraphale who stood there. It was his oldest brother Gabriel, his face turned sour. Anthony made a face, he knew that Gabriel didn’t like him very much and the feeling was mutual. Aziraphale adored his older brother, so he always tried to be nice anyway, even when the teenager totally ignored him or looked at him disapprovingly.

“Oh ssshit, I’m so sssorry!” Anthony lied.

Luckily he spotted Aziraphale hiding somewhere by the pool, so he just ran off with his Super Soaker and left a wet Gabriel behind.