Chapter 2

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~Okay. Three chapters and (admittedly bad)!cover art in one day? WTF IS HAPPENING?!?!?~

    I walked into the lunchroom a bit apprehensively. Pretty much everyone had seen me run out of the cafeteria yesterday, and I worried that they would bring it up. I surreptitiously started walking towards the table where I sat by myself.
    "Hey Ukraine!" someone yelled. I braced myself for the taunts and bullying of America and his friends, but it was Canada. "Want to come sit at our table?" I was surprised. This was the first time anyone in this school actually wanted to sit with me.
    "Oh, ummm... sure?" I replied, embarrassed. Everyone in the surrounding vicinity was looking at me, and I speedwalked towards Canada's table while pulling my hood up, as if that would help. Thankfully, there was an empty spot where the two adjacent seats were also empty. I sat down before I realized that the seat I chose was right across from Canada. He smiled at me, and I TOTALLY DIDN'T blush a little bit. Did I have a crush on him? Mmmmmaybe. He was smart, funny, and caring. Why wouldn't I like him? "Thanks for letting me sit here," I said to him.
    "No problem!" he said. Under the guise of opening my lunchbox, I looked around. Nobody seemed mad that I was sitting there. They just carried on with their conversation. Eventually, I started talking a little, something I almost never do in front of strangers. That half hour with him and his friends was great, and I walked with a little spring in my step to my next class.
    At the end of the day, I packed up my backpack and locked my locker. I was just about to leave when something blocked my path. I looked up and saw that it was America towering over me. My first instinct was to look around for help, but nobody was there. The hallway was deserted. My eyes were still off him when he pushed me. I slammed into my locker and fell to the floor. Then he kicked me in the ankle, causing a sudden blast of pain. I bit my lip to avoid screaming, but it didn't stop the tears from coming. He leaned in close to me.
    "I heard your father's dead," he said to me. "Good riddance." Then he walked away, leaving me on the floor with tears trickling down my face. After I was sure he was gone, I pushed myself up. I then tried to get up, but my ankle gave me so much pain that I fell to the ground again. Not giving up, I grabbed the locker and pulled myself up, leaning against it and with my foot in the air. I tried to think what to do next, but I couldn't think of anything through the pain. Just then I heard a voice.
    "Ukraine? Are you okay?" I sighed with relief. It was Canada. I tried to say something, but I couldn't through the tears. "What happened? Is your foot okay?" This time I managed to get something out.
    "A-America kicked me really hard in the ankle while I was down on the ground after he pushed m-me and h-he said something a-about Dad..." I coughed through the tears.
    "Can you walk?" he asked. I shook my head. "Okay then, I'll help." He offered me his shoulder, and I pushed off from the locker and gratefully leaned on it. The tears had slowed down by now, and I was actually able to talk without hiccupping.
    "Ukraine, I'll do something about him. He can't keep leaving you in tears every day." I shook my head.
    "It's fine, I'll get through it. Besides, I don't want to destroy your relations with your brother." He sighed. We were almost at his car, and he reached into his pocket for his key fob. While he was doing that, his arm shifted, throwing me off-balance. I started falling, but still held on to his arm, so I swung around in front of him before hitting the side of his car. I suddenly found myself looking deep into his eyes.
    "Are you okay?" he almost yelled.
    I chuckled. "I'm fine, but you should probably move me before one of the teachers sees us."
    He gave a nervous chuckle and swung me back around, and then unlocked the car. He helped me get into the passenger seat, and then went into the driver's seat.
    "Are you sure your ankle is okay? Maybe you should come to our house-" I cut him off.
    "I need to go take care of my siblings. Besides, America wouldn't like it."
    "True," he said, "But America doesn't like anything."
    I laughed and gave him my address. In 15 minutes, we were there. He helped me limp to the front porch, and after refusing his many attempts to help me further, he drove off, honking the horn. I smiled to myself, and then chuckled. Somehow, 30 minutes after being kicked while on the ground, I was smiling.

~Wait Ukraine is actually smiling at the end of a chapter? Finally! Also yes America is even more of a jerk~

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