Something Like Normal. {Book I} EDITING

Something Like Normal.

I remember the first day I met Jocelyn Bowmen. She was in a bakery cafe, trying some Italian pastries. She had gone to a chair I was going over and we both went to the grab for the chair but I had caught it first. We both hadn't been paying attention and her box of pastries fell out of her hand. It fell to the ground and the pastry fell out, smashing to the ground.

I had looked down at the box, "Watch it.", I had said in Italian as I sat in the chair, not knowing she was some stubborn American.

"What?", she scuffed in straight American English.

"Watch it.", I said in English that time, taking a sip of my latte.

"I know what you said.", she hissed out. "What I didn't understand is that this is your fault. This is my seat.".

I took my sunglasses off, "I don't see your name on it.", I said and she paused for a moment, taking my Russian accent in. She even blushed and I would have thought it was cute if she wasn't some annoying American.

Her nose scrunched up, "And I thought the boys back home were rude." she said. "You better go buy me new chocolate croissants.".

I sighed, "Look Amerika, I got to this seat first so get over it. And I not wasting my money just because you dropped your croissants."

"It's your fault I dropped them and I want my seat!" she said

"It's just a seat.", I said, chuckling at how angry she got. It was like watching a kitten trying to act like a tiger.

"It's my seat, I've been sitting at this seat for the last three weeks.", she said. "And I won't let some rude Ukrainian boy take it from me.".

My left eyebrow raised, "I'm Russian." I said and she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I want my seat." she said.

"Is this some American thing you do back home? You sit at a seat and it's your forever?" I asked.

"I have four brothers, you take what you can get--wait, I shouldn't have to explain myself to you!", she said. "And I want my croissants! They cost way to much money for you to ruin them.".

She was starting to make a scene and my shoulders slumps, "Calm down, Amerika. Gosh, why do you American's have to be so loud?"

"And why do you Russian boys have to be stubborn?" she asked.

"Go away." I said.

"No.", she said.

"Hothead." I muttered in Russian.

"Huh?", she asked, shifting her weight onto one leg, giving me a very common American 'excuse me' look.

I got up from the seat, towering over her, "Will you quit it?", I asked, my voice hard. I can hold my temper for long, no one ever talks to me like that. And I had getting smartass looks. It just...err, it irks me! Does she know who I am? She wouldn't talk to me like that if she did!

She pressed her lips together tightly, "Do you know what my daddy told me to do if some guy harasses me?", she asked.

Not really even caring, I moaned, "Hmm?".

She took a step back and before I knew it, my expensive white polo shirt was drenched in brown soda. I gasped and my arms flew up. People around had gasped in surprised at what she did and I looked up at her in shock for a moment before my look turn cold, "Suka!", I said, calling her a bitch. I'm never rude to women, my mother had taught me never to disrespect a women, but I would not tolerate what this girl did! "Are you crazy or something?", I asked this crazy girl.

That's when she had realized what she done when she felt every eye on the room. She looked like a deer, afraid and helpless. She turned around and ran out of the cafe. For some reason, I had followed her out.

I had caught her a block away and I yelled, she yelled, I yelled some more, and she broke down crying. She had told sorry so many time I didn't think it was possible and told me she was homesick and she hasn't made much friends, so she showing it by anger. Seeing her cry, it was strange. It was awkward since she was crying right there, with the people walking by and wondering what I had done to the girl probably.

Just to do something, I awkwardly put my arms around her and said, "Oh, it's okay. It's okay, I forgive you.", I said just to get the people to stop staring at me with hate in their eyes.

She finally stopped crying and I dropped my arms. She took a step back and gaped at me shirt before reaching out and grabbed it, "Oh my God, did I do that? This shirts look like something Jordan Brookville would wear.", she said.

I reached up and took the crazy girl hands off my ruined shirt not knowing who that was, "Um, yeah, that's okay. I got plenty of shirts like this."

"Sorry,", she said, looking down at her sandals.

"Look--I'm sorry, I don't know your name.", I said.

"Jocelyn.", she said.

I held my hand out, "Yuri."

She looked up at me and give me a small smile, shaking my head, "Such a European name.".

"Such an American girl.", I said, chuckling.

I had invited her for a walk and she had warned me she had pepper spray in her bag if I had the of idea of kidnapping her as we began walking. After that day, we became friends. I had learnt she was here in to study abroad from school, the same as I was. It turned out we were in the same student program and we had passed each other in the hall many times but never gave each other a glance.

I could tell Jocelyn everything--well, maybe not everything. I hadn't told her my father was Vladimir Abramov, a famous Russia action star. And I plan to never tell her, she would just look at me differently. Joeclyn was the first girl--person to ever treat me like a human being and not someone who only want to know me for being Yuri Abramov.

That's why I'm sitting here at the airport with a ticket in my hand, ready to spend time studying abroad for my last year in high school but I'll be going to America and go to Jocelyn school. My mother had asked me why I would want to run away again. It may look like that to her but I could this an adventure for me to know other cultures. She saw through my lie, but I didn't care.

Suddenly a plastic cup with purple slushy was held out in front of my face, "They have raspberry flavor now!", she happily said. "Taste it, it's delicious.".

I smiled up at her, "I'm okay.".

She frowned and sat next to me, "Fine, I'll drink it all myself.", she said, taking a sip of her purple mashed ice. "I'm not looking forward to going back.".

"You talked about going back for the last four months about how excited you were.", I said, taking away on my phone to my mother.

"I was before I realized I had to go back to Genesis High." She said, snorting. I felt her eyes on me and I looked up, giving her a questionable look, "Promise you wont stop being friends with me when we go there. Everyone going to want to know the Russian guy. It's a small town, everyone wants to know everything.".

I chuckled and threw my arm around her, pulling her towards, "No one could ever replace you-you'll be there in my face to remind me that.", I said. "And I doubt they want to know everything, I'll be hard to investigate.", I said jokingly, but I was wondering if she's right. It would be easy to look up my name and find my father name, going on his Wiki page, and find my name there.

Oh for God sakes Yuri, stop worrying, I thought