Restart (boyxboy)

“Zino Tomlinson, your new guardian is here to pick you up,” Ms. Smith, the desk lady who has always been nice while I’ve been here, informed me. Her curly golden hair bounced as she nodded good-bye. This would hopefully be the last time I’ll ever see her again. Not that she’s mean but she thought it was so sad, what happened to me. No one here understood how I felt so they all pitied me. You see, not too long ago, four weeks to be precise, both my parents died in a car crash. Most people would blame themselves for their parents’ death, but I know better. The only real reason I’m still here is because I knew they would be disappointed in me if I just gave up.

I gathered my two already packed bags full of clothes and personal items. I didn’t have much at the orphanage since most of it was in storage. Furniture and boxes would be brought to my new home to be unpacked and arranged there. Walking out would have been easier if someone hadn’t let out all the children run free. They always do this on open house days.

Screaming kids mostly between the ages of five to ten ran around trying to get the attention of the adults coming in and out. After making my way through I opened the door gasping for fresh air. Fucking monsters they were. Sorry about my language. I have a habit of cussing like a sailor whenever I’m mad.

Pulled up front away from the parking lot was a blue ordinary car; I don’t know cars much, even though I am a guy. Inside was a slender woman who looked maybe about thirty. She looked just like the lady in the picture they gave me: long bleach blond hair going to her midriff, huge brown, almost black, sunglasses covering what were supposed to be bright blue eyes, and a nice natural even tan. A lovely sunshine orange spaghetti T-shirt was worn over a pair of pure white shorts. According to what I know, her name should be Jenna, Jenna Johnson.

Sitting next to her in the passage seat was who I guess was Maric, her biological son and my new brother. His hair was similar to hers but darker, like a dirty blond, but unlike her he wasn’t wearing sunglass letting his blue green eyes exposed to the sunlight. What I found interesting was his weird hair style. He had it spiked in the back and made the bangs swoop towards his left. Plus the tips were a darker color. Maric wore two tanks, red over black, with a dark denim jacket over top. His pants were denim too with rips and tears and holes going up and down. I could hardly see that he was wearing brand new deep blue sneakers. With their designer clothes, I could tell these people were rich. Funny ‘cause their car defiantly wasn’t fancy.

“Are you Zino Tomlinson?” Jenna asked me carefully.

I cleared my throat before I replied, “Yeah, you’re Mrs. Johnson right?”

She nodded, “this is my son Maric. Maric, say hello to Zino.”

He made some of grunt noise. Jenna shook her head and I got in the back.

She started to drive when Jenna said, “So Zino, I was told that your parents died suddenly. They didn’t tell me how,” She looked nervous in the review mirror as she bit her lip, “Are you still grieving?”

“Not really,” I mumbled. We were going over the bridge from Indiana to Kentucky. “Where do you live anyway?”

Maric was the one who answered: “Buckner, Kentucky. East of Louisville.” For some reason, the way he said it made me feel stupid. I looked out the window instead. The Ohio River was filthy from all the pollution.

Jenna was shifting around in her seat, feeling uncomfortable with the eerie silence that had enveloped inside the car. Her hand was reaching for radio knob when she said, “Hey Zino, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” If she keeps asking me all these questions I’m going to end up like Maric and sulk in the corner all the time.

None the less, I answered her question. “I like breakfast.” Maric snorted and I felt embarrassed. I really did like breakfast. Usually I ate three waffles, two pancakes, five pieces of sausage, a biscuit or two, and a tall glass of milk. My mom used to say that I never ate much at all until I started school. She couldn’t stop me from eating afterwards.