After 20 minutes of hyperventilating, a couple posts on Instagram and Twitter from extras on the bus, and a first aid kit, the kid was okay. The bus driver bandaged him up and gave him a bunch of napkins from her bag to stop the nose bleed. He just kind of stood there and looked around at everyone taking pictures of him to post. From where I was in my seat the sun was hitting him nicely from behind. That would be a great picture. I was about to grab my camera when I remembered I just kicked this kid in the face. Not the time. Not the time.
"I guess nobody's ever seen a bloody nose before." I realized he was talking to me.
He had an accent. Nice. British? Nah. Australian? No. American? Wait. I'm American. I sound awful. He doesn't. Wait I'm still talking to this kid.
I shook myself from the daze. "Well you did kind of look dead. I'm so sorry by the way. Really, I mean I was unconscious then you were unconscious because I was unconscious and kicked you really hard and made that footprint on your face and made your face get its period and well..."
"Yeah I was there. Nice shoes by the way." I looked down at my converse noticing the new blood stain design I had going on.
"Oh thanks! Customized."
The bus driver honked the horn from her seat and looked at him from the mirror. "Hey kid. Just because you bleed on my bus doesn't mean you own it. Sit!" He quickly clutched his backpack and sat down next to me. "And you, ninja girl! Quit knockin' people in the face!" I nodded in agreement and turned to the boy still holding a napkin to his nose.
Then he spoke. "Where are my manners? Not that I have any but my name's Lionel. Your's?"
"Lina. And before I forget, where are you from. I've never heard an accent like that. It's...intriguing."
He smiled and stifled a small laugh. He looked out past me through the window. He looked at me again, "Finland. I'm from Finland."
I froze. My whole body tensed. Of all the places he could be from, it's Finland. I hate that country. It's suppose to be a beautiful place that people have on their bucket list to visit. It's suppose to give happiness. But to me, it only took. It took my happiness, my normal childhood.
It took my father from me.
Maybe it was instinct to kick him in the face. My body's way of telling me he was bad news.
But it's not his fault my father died. He's just a guy who was born in a place. Nothing to do with me. I can't blame him for my problems.
"Are you okay?" Lionel's voice brought me back to reality. "You kinda spaced out. Is it bad I'm from Finland or something?"
"No! No! Not at all. I'm just thinking. You're fine."
"Really? Because I just moved here and I'm already sticking out like a sore thumb."
"Well what's wrong with that? I'd say that's a pretty cool way to start your first day of American school. Don't worry about that little episode. It'll pass."
My phone vibrated. It was a text from Daisy.
🌸D-Dog🌸- Get some! He's foreign! 😉😁
I face-palmed myself and turned around to Daisy sitting behind us. She gave me two thumbs up and the stupidest smile. I rolled my eyes and turned back around.
