What My Mother Forgot

Long Blonde Hair

From 1st to 3rd, my bus route often changed. Partly because we moved, and partly because of the school.

This year there was a new girl: Kayla.

She and her sister were assigned to my seat. 

And while Amanda was nice, 

Kayla was not.

Most days, we argued.

But over the course of weeks, things escalated.

One morning, she grabbed my arm and bit me.

Though I cried, our bus driver ignored me.

Which now that I think back, isn't so surprising.

I remember one time my Brother ran his mouth to a high schooler, and that kid lifted him by the collar and pinned him to the ceiling, and she didn't even blink. Just told him to go to his seat.

In our case, she separated us and moved me to the seat behind her.

All throughout the school day she bragged about beating me up on the bus.

That afternoon she hung her waist-long blond hair over the seat and in my face.

I think she thought because I'd cried and because I let Genna and her friends bully me that I was soft.

But the real problem was that even though they were mean, I still wanted to be their friend.

You see, my parents let my Brother and I beat the hell out of each other.

In fact, they encouraged it.

The only rule was we couldn't leave a mark.

And even though he was a year younger, physically, he was bigger.

I quickly understood the adage of fight smarter, not harder, and I was well versed in the ways to hurt someone without leaving a mark.

So I grabbed Kayla's hair and hung on for dear life. She cried for the bus driver whose eyes flitted up the review mirror, but she did nothing.

Once I was satisfied that she was crying hard enough not to retaliate, I let go.

She mostly left me alone after that.